The Vessel:

From Marred to Honorable

Emily Rose Massey

Scripture quotations noted NKJV are taken from the New King James Version of the Bible. Bible Gateway. Web. 11 Oct. 2013

Scripture quotations noted NIV are taken from the New International Version of the Bible. Bible Gateway. Web. 5 Oct. 2013

Scripture quotations noted NLT are taken from the New Living Translation of the Bible. Bible Gateway. Web. 25 Oct. 2013

Scripture quotations noted ESV are taken from the English Standard Version of the Bible. Bible Gateway. Web. 16 Nov. 2013

Copyright ©2014 by Emily Rose Massey

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Contents

Preface

Step 1: Digging Up the Clay

Introduction: Found in the Pit

Chapter 1: Rock vs. Sand

Chapter 2: Dragged Under

Chapter 3: Bound in the Pit

Chapter 4: Crying Out

Step 2: The Chisel

Chapter 5: Marred in His Hands

Chapter 6: Life Upon the Rock

Step 3: The Water and the Wheel

Chapter 7: Molding My Heart

Step 4: Drying and the Kiln

Chapter 8: Receiving My New Song

Chapter 9: Praise to Our God

Step 5: Glaze and the Kiln

Chapter 10: Fear of the Lord

Chapter 11: Trusting the Lord

Step 6: A Vessel Fit for the Master’s Use

Chapter 12: A Yielded Vessel of Honor

Epilogue

Preface

In the Bible, specifically in Revelation 12:11, it proclaims that the Accuser of the brethren, Satan, has been “overcome by the Blood of the Lamb and the word of [a people’s] testimony.” This is a promise from God that boldly declares that Satan no longer has power over those who believe in Jesus. Through and because of Jesus’ sacrifice on the cross, we can live as overcomers. Most Christians grasp the first part of this verse, but many Christians live in either shame or insecurity and never release what God has done for them. But it is the Blood of Jesus AND our testimony that puts the enemy right where he belongs- under our feet, and not the other way around! For the past three years, the Lord has been stirring my heart to release the word of my testimony. The enemy has tried to keep me in shame of my story and silence my voice for too long, and I believe with all that is within me that now is the time for me to testify for my Lord Jesus. Every single story that tells of God’s marvelous, transforming power in our life deserves to be shared because He is forever worthy of all of the glory that story brings!

I am about to share mine with you. In recounting my story, I have searched my heart, my memory, and my journal the best that I can and relied on the Holy Spirit to do the rest. I have chosen to remain very open and honest as I write the words in this book. Although this is my personal story, many people have contributed to the events that have taken place on my journey. I have avoided using names, where doing so might cause someone hurt or embarrassment, and that is not my intention whatsoever. My hope is that King Jesus would receive His glory and touch your heart as you see a life delivered from the power of darkness and translated into His Kingdom.

There were many times that I tried with all of my might to take the pen out of God’s hand to write out my own story, but I am here today to tell you that there came a day when I surrendered that pen and my whole life, and gave it to the rightful owner, Jesus, the author and finisher of my faith. The surrender of my own will and submission to the Lord did not happen overnight. It was a process that I had to be willing to endure no matter what the cost. There was so much in my heart that the Lord had to pull out and chisel away that He never intended for me to live with. As each page unfolds, you will discover how God transformed me from hardened, marred clay stuck in a deep pit of the filth of life and sin and molded me into a beautiful vessel of honor for Him to flow through and use for His plan and glory. I boast of this transformation not because I am good, but because He is! He redeemed my soul and miraculously changed me from the inside out. I write all of this only to tell you He will do it for you, if you just learn to yield your life to Him. Surrender it all over to Him, and let the great Potter mold you into a vessel that seems best to Him!

Psalm 40

(NKJV)

To the Chief Musician. A Psalm of David.

I waited patiently for the Lord;

And He inclined to me,

And heard my cry.

2 He also brought me up out of a horrible pit,

Out of the miry clay,

And set my feet upon a rock,

And established my steps.

3 He has put a new song in my mouth—

Praise to our God;

Many will see it and fear,

And will trust in the Lord.

I would not be able to reach for this dream of mine if it were not for the grace of God and the love that radiates from my family and friends, especially my mom, my amazing husband, Paul, and my extremely supportive church family and co-workers. Words cannot express what each and every one of you mean to me. My heart is full.

I am forever thankful…

Step 1:

Digging Up the Clay

Introduction: Found in the Pit

“He also brought me up out of a horrible pit,

Out of the miry clay…” Psalm 40:2a (NKJV)

Even through my parents’ struggles, I was born into a family who raised me to believe in God. From a newborn, I was baptized and raised up in church. I attended Sunday school from the ages of five to fourteen and went through the typical sacraments: first communion, reconciliation, and confirmation. I had the “Our Father” down pat by the age of six and could sing every word of “How Great Thou Art” and “On Eagle’s Wings” with boldness from the children’s choir. Religion taught me how to know of God, but I lacked understanding of what it meant to truly KNOW Him and live for Him through my faith in Christ.

On the outside, my parents seemed to have it all together, yet, behind the façade of your typical Midwest, middleclass, American family with 2.3 kids, a dog, a cat, and a three-bedroom house with a fenced-in back yard, my dad struggled heavily with alcoholism for a majority of my life. Memories of him coming home stumbling through the house drunk, engaging in screaming matches with my mom, and throwing things across the room still echo in my mind.  He entered rehab programs, joined AA, and truly did try his best to conquer the addiction, but eventually it became too much for my mom, and their marriage ended when I was around ten years old and my little brother was just six.

My mom, brother, and I moved in with my grandparents in the same town, and my brother and I would stay with my dad on the weekends. The divorce seemed to wake my dad up and for a while, forced him to make some serious changes in his life. He and my mom were married for twelve years and had known each other since they were in high school. His lifestyle choices with alcohol and an addiction to pornography caused him to lose his marriage. Although he struggled with showing us genuine affection, I know deep down that he did not want to lose his kids too. Our time together was full of pizza and movie nights, games of miniature golf, and road-trips to visit family almost every summer.

Meanwhile, as I was trying to deal with having two separate homes, my mom quickly entered another relationship with a man she met in an online chat-room from New England who soon moved to the Midwest. At the time, since I was so young, I didn’t know that my parents were not divorced yet. I knew all of this was happening very quickly, but I didn’t question why this other man was now living with us. My mom was happy, so I thought it was okay. I thought this was normal. After all, this man wasn’t abusive or an alcoholic, so this was better, right?

While I was trying to form some kind of relationship with this new “father figure” in my life, my mom became pregnant with my little sister and got married shortly after.  I started to become angry and I didn’t know why.  Instead of dealing with all of the challenges that these major transitions brought in my life, I dove into numerous school activities and tried my best to distract myself and numb the hurt and bitterness. Little did I know, even then, I was allowing seeds of un-forgiveness to take root that the Lord would have to dig out of my heart for years to come.

In school, I was very shy and quiet, but I was a confident student. I excelled in almost every subject. I was on the high honor roll every quarter from grade school on and received numerous awards year after year. I was always acknowledged by my teachers for my sweet and kind spirit. I never got in trouble. I kept to myself and did all that was asked of me. I knew right from wrong and never wanted to push the limits of that, at least at school any way. Although I would never call myself one of the popular kids, I did have a lot of friends. I got along with pretty much everyone and was known for my numerous slumber parties and big birthday gatherings every year. A part of me knew that I was loved, but I still felt like something was missing in my life.

At a very young age, because of the lack of affection from my dad and my struggling relationship with my step-dad, who only showed me love and just wanted me to accept him into my life, I began to look for attention from boys to fill that void in my heart. My mom would constantly affirm my looks, personality, and talent, but I longed for affirmation from boys. Like most little girls, I had a “boyfriend” in grade school who I allowed to buy me gifts on Valentine’s Day, my birthday, and Christmas. It was completely innocent and cute, but as I reached puberty, there seemed to be a force pulling me to seek more and more attention and sexual pleasure that wasn’t so innocent and cute anymore.

As I truly begin to understand where the root of this desire came from a part from my relationships with my dad and step-dad, two cloudy memories of traumatic sexual encounters come to the surface. The first one was with a boy from school. When I was just five years old, I was playing outside at this boy’s house and he invited me to come up to his room to see some toys in his closet. Suddenly, he tried to take advantage of me by touching me inappropriately and forcefully trying to make out with me. I pushed him away and ran back home and never told anyone. Anytime I walked passed his house, I was scared to see that boy, thinking that he would try to do it again.

The second encounter occurred one night after a family Christmas party when I was about seven years old. While my older cousin and I were sitting in the backseat of my parents’ car alone with the car running, he grabbed my tiny hand and laid it on his private parts and tried to put my hand down his pants. Thankfully, my mom came back to the car before he could go any further, and he pulled away and released my hand. Again, even though I knew it was wrong, I never told anyone for fear that they wouldn’t believe me.

As I reached the tender age of twelve, a spirit of lust and perversion seemed to be wrapping its noose of chains around my heart and soul, as doors were now opened to masturbation and talking to older men in chat rooms while participating in “cyber-sex,” along with discovering my dad’s and step-dad’s pornographic video tapes and secretly watching them in my bedroom late at night or when no one was home.

By the seventh grade, I had already gotten in a bed with a boy from school. I pushed the boundaries of my purity and innocence even further, as I allowed him to explore my body however he wanted to. This continued for a couple months.  I was afraid to say no because I was so desperate for genuine love, attention, and acceptance from a man.  Although we did not “go all the way,” I was flirting very close with that fine line, and I opened a huge door for the enemy to create a stronghold from soul-ties that would take years to untie. Insecurity would drive me into a lifestyle of trying to please anyone and everyone no matter what the cost. This behavior would affect many areas of my life.

By the time I entered high school, my role as a strong student continued, as I was in advanced classes and held offices in several clubs and organizations. I was involved in cheerleading, Art Club, Marching Band, Pep Band, Concert Band, National Honor Society, Student Council, Show Choir, play and musical productions, Peers Group, Math Club… just to name a few. I guess it was my way of also looking like I had it all together from the outside and to hide the dark secrets of my young, tainted sole. Looking back, I see that I kept myself so busy and distracted so that I didn’t crumble at the thought that I truly didn’t know how to love, receive love, or find lasting joy in life.

My parents did the best they could to provide for my siblings and I, but I did a horrible job showing gratitude and appreciation, and for that, I am very remorseful. We were rich by no means, but the love in our home was rich. I couldn’t receive any of it because I allowed outward circumstances and my inward turmoil to bitter my heart. In addition to my impure lifestyle, I was distracted by my living environment: the power, TV, and phone service being shut off constantly or having to sleep on the couch for about a year after we moved into my uncle’s house that we purchased from him when he moved that was in dire need of many repairs. As a teenager, I let the fact that I had no space to call my own hang over my mom’s head constantly. Through the financial struggles, I know she wanted us to have the best life possible, but the financial pressure just pushed her into depression, and at the time I was too young to fully understand what she was going through. She sacrificed so much for me to have anything I wanted to make up for the fact that I was constantly unhappy. There was a huge void in my heart, and I desperately wanted to fill it to make the pain go away.

I continued to look for love in all the wrong places.  Since I was a cheerleader, I was involved with the popular crowd, which only led me to drinking, fooling around in the backseat of cars parked along country back-roads, and receiving the nickname “Blowjob Betty.”  I was prey for upperclassmen boys because they were beginning to hear that I didn’t say “no.”  There was even a pattern of names that started to form of boys that I fooled around with that people caught onto. So much so, the next boy I got involved with got the first letter of his name changed by other mocking students to match the rest. Even the girls joined in on the ridicule. I couldn’t even enjoy lunch-time without hearing the upper-class girls call me filthy names as I walked passed them. I was found in all of this mess by this age of fifteen. FIFTEEN! As I write this, that is the age of my little sister. It just brings tears to my eyes to think of her or her friends finding themselves in the pit I was in.

Bitterness and self-loathing created a war-zone at home. It just seemed as if I was always angry with someone in the house even though deep down, I was truly angry with myself. Joyce Meyer says it best, “Hurt people, hurt people.” Those people I constantly hurt were my family who tried their best to make me happy, completely unaware of the perverse life I was living. No matter how much I knew it was wrong, I couldn’t stop. I was always searching, always longing, always running after something or someone to make me feel worth it.  The things of this world that I tried to satisfy my soul and fill my heart with had blinded me. Only Jesus (and not religion), could heal me, make me whole, and cause me to see clearly. At a time when I didn’t think I could take the shame any longer, God used a Christian childhood sweetheart and friend to show me the way to Jesus. This childhood friend and I started to reconnect, and he invited me to his church and his youth group.

We eventually became a couple and his church and youth group became my church and my youth group too. Through his life and his family’s lives, Jesus was being lifted up around me, and just like the Word says, the Lord was drawing me closer. At sixteen, at a youth conference alter-call, I ran to the feet of Jesus, crying out to Him and asking Him to save me and make me new. Father God reached down and picked me up out of the pit of destruction and set my feet on the Rock that is Jesus Christ. As I cried out to the Lord that night, I made the first attempt to surrender my heart, but it would be a long journey of tug-of-war for it, as I struggled to completely surrender my entire life to Him.

For six years, I would walk with one foot in my old life on shifting sand and one foot in my new life in Christ on solid ground. No matter how hard I resisted, the Lord would never forget the cry that came from the depth of my soul at that alter-call and would patiently mold my hardened heart only as the Potter can. This heart-cry was the beginning of the process of the Father taking all of the junk out of my heart that He didn’t put there. At least as much of my marred and damaged heart as I would allow Him to…

Chapter 1: Rock vs. Sand

“Therefore everyone who hears these words of mine and puts them into practice is like a wise man who built his house on the rock. The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house; yet it did not fall, because it had its foundation on the rock. But everyone who hears these words of mine and does not put them into practice is like a foolish man who built his house on sand. The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell with a great crash.” Matthew 7:24-27 (NIV)

This whole “Christian thing” was completely foreign to me right off of the bat. Although my family raised me in church, I did not have a clue what being a Christian meant. All I knew of God was a list of rules of “do’s” and “don’ts” that the Ten Commandments taught me through religion. Bible stories of how vengeful God was and how He would smite you if you did not obey Him dominated my thoughts about Him. I thought God was angry, especially with me.  I did not know about the love of God. I spent my entire life going to church almost every Sunday, attended Sunday school for almost ten years, and never once heard the words “saved” or “born-again.” John 3:16 was brand new to me. I had so many questions in my mind about what a born-again Christian looked like. I wanted to know what I just signed up for!

I truly did feel like a baby learning to walk. I watched everyone at church and in youth group to see how they behaved and how they talked so I could do the same. If I intended to change, I needed to conform to how other Christians lived their lives. You know, attend church, Sunday school, retreats, conferences, volunteer at VBS in the summer, volunteer at nursing homes, and sing in the worship band on Sunday mornings-all outward actions that men can see, but the Bible declares in First Samuel, “The Lord looks at the heart,” and my heart was in desperate need of some TLC. I owned a Bible that the church gave me (I only read it a few times) and attended church week after week, but I never allowed anything to sink in deep enough to transform my pathetic heart. I needed someone to disciple me, but didn’t know that at the time. My sixteen-year-old self was doing all I could in my own strength to change my behavior on the outside because that is all I knew to do. The Holy Spirit does His work from the inside out, but like I said, I was going to try to change myself in my own strength because I didn’t know how to yield myself to Him yet.

Aside from my involvement at church, I continued my over-involvement in school and found a new passion for theatre that seemed to aid in creating the façade of my life. Acting would become my means of escape as I learned to exist in a land of pretending to be someone else. “Christian” was just another role to play, and I would spend several years convincing myself that I was changing into one.

My high school boyfriend and I got serious very quickly. My impure past behavior resurfaced and I became a seductress who polluted my boyfriend’s innocence. Infatuation turned into a lust that two teenagers need to stay as far away from as possible. But we were just that, teenagers-with ranging hormones and we were convinced that we were madly in love with each other. Deep down, we both knew that our behavior was wrong, but the conviction wasn’t strong enough to get us to keep our hands off of each other, so we ignored the warnings. We pushed the limits, yet never went far enough to lose what we knew was meant for the marriage bed. We had no idea that we were tying our souls together and no matter how often we would hear truth regarding purity, our talks about setting boundaries never carried enough weight to actually follow through with the decision to live purely before the Lord. Our True Love Waits commitment cards found space in our wallets, but never truly made a home in our hearts. There was a slight breakthrough during a retreat I attended by myself about a year after I was saved where I actually memorized scripture for the first time ever (Philippians 4:13, a promise that I would learn to stand upon years later), but the moment I heard anything about Christian dating guidelines, I tuned it out. I was in love, and no one could convince me otherwise, or tell me what I should and should not be doing.

Over the course of two and a half years, my high school sweetheart and I had many discussions about marriage, children, and our future together as high school teachers-he, a music teacher and I would be an English teacher who directed the fall plays and spring musicals. Even in the midst of our “happily-ever-after” conversations about our future, I was still unhappy with myself and began to put demands on the relationship that seventeen year olds cannot even begin to handle. When he began to question my plan, I distanced myself, and the enemy opened doors to opportunities to seek attention from other young men that he strategically placed in my path. I had taken the bait twice and there was no mending the wrongs the second time I broke my boyfriend’s heart. I apologized continuously for my poor choices, but that would only be enough to hold our relationship together for only a short period of time. I believed we were soul-mates forever. We were still going to spend the rest of our lives together, right? Wrong.

A week before our senior year began, he ended our relationship. He looked at me with tear-filled eyes, while his voice cracked, and he told me he couldn’t do it anymore. At that moment, it became very real to me that I didn’t have the power to change myself at all. I had tried to fix myself for almost two years, but the work would have to go much deeper than just what you could see on the surface. My world was completely turned upside down, and I no longer had my feet on solid ground (if I ever did). Although I continued to attend our church and youth group, I had jumped off of any foundation I had in Christ and plummeted into the pit of depression. It became very obvious that I never truly gave my whole heart to the Lord because it was now crushed under the weight of this long-term high school relationship that just ended.

My senior year of high school can be described in one word- dark. I fell through the wide-open cracks of the foundation I had built my life upon and unfortunately, I failed to remain upon the firm foundation of Jesus Christ. The first few weeks after the break-up, I tried to re-gain ground with my now ex-boyfriend. I became just slightly psycho ex-girlfriend on him. His parents did a wonderful job at keeping me from him and at the same time, keeping me from making more poor choices that I might have regretted, at least for a few months anyway. I went to visit him at his home a day after the break-up, but was only allowed past the front door. When I called their house, they would not allow me to talk to him and urged me that it would be best if I avoided speaking to him at school as well. I am thankful for their protection over both of our tender, young hearts, but back then, I was absolutely furious with them that they would keep us from each other.

Their protection could only keep me from him for so long. This persistent and stubborn girl would not be satisfied until he was mine again, even if I had to compromise the very little self-respect I had left. I confronted him constantly at school, and he pushed me away every time, making it very clear to me that we were over. In my mind, that couldn’t be further from the truth. We were soul-mates, and we would be together no matter how hard I would have to work at convincing him. I began to play head-games with him and tried to make him jealous as I flirted heavily with his friends. He overheard a couple stories of me and other guys fooling around and even a drunken adventure on the country back-roads. He forcefully confronted me about it and told me that I was worth more than that kind of behavior. I was immediately angry at him for sticking his nose in my business, but truly, at that moment, I knew he still cared about me.  I would use that confrontation as my fuel to lure him back into my arms. One Friday night, I managed to get him to agree to take me home after our traditional Steak ‘n Shake trip with the cast of the fall play. I began to pour out my heart to him, and he didn’t pull away when I laid my head on his shoulder and reached for his hand. That night he made an offer that I should have, but did not refuse-to be friends with benefits. I believed with all of my heart that if we kissed, that old flame would burn once again, and we would be together forever. I utterly demolished any self-respect that I had from that point on.

Thus, the self-hatred and bitterness continued to strangle my heart and mind. I became a complete basket-case. I would break down in tears one minute and then yell until I almost passed out the next. I couldn’t even control it at school and would freak out in the hallway. My home-life wasn’t any different, and my family avoided me because I was a walking time-bomb. My mom did not know what was wrong with me. She suggested anti-depressants after she discovered that I suffered with symptoms from a feminine mental illness cause by severe hormonal imbalances called “PMDD: Pre-Menstrual Dysphoric Disorder” or what I labeled it, “PMS on crack.”  It felt like I was losing my mind constantly. There were numerous times I contemplated letting go of the steering wheel on my way home from stalking my ex to see if he was home or not. I looked to material things and people to numb the pain. If my ex wouldn’t ever truly love me, the next best thing would be his arms around me to distract me from the pit I found myself in once again. Up until the week we both went off to separate colleges, we remained “soul-ly” friends with benefits. When the time finally came to part ways, we kissed good-bye in the parking lot of Dairy Queen and wished each other well. Although we were a part physically, the bond of impurity we created within our souls would remain for years and years to come. A new chapter lied ahead of us in college, and I tried my best to not turn back the pages to what was meant to stay in the past.

My freshman year of college was my chance for a clean-slate, a fresh start. Because I was always an excellent student, my classes kept my mind pre-occupied and the depression at bay for a little while because I had something to focus on other than my emotional battles. God was at work in my heart, even if I didn’t fully understand how. He began to put some truly genuine friends in my path that helped me to have fun and enjoy life. On the weekends, we would all go out to dinner and concerts. We didn’t drink, but would hang out at parties and enjoy music and conversation. If we were asked why we didn’t drink, we would respond, “Because we’re not thirsty,” look at each other, and laugh. I started to attend a campus-ministry weekly Bible study and make friends there as well. I have to admit, it was really the first time I read my Bible, not as a chore, but as a means to receive revelation knowledge. As I did my homework, I listened to worship music. I also attended a float trip and a Christian retreat with a few people from my Bible study. My life was beginning to start to take a turn for the better, and I truly could sense God’s presence in my life. I wasn’t going through the motions anymore; I had found passion in life. I started to regain confidence in myself and was ready to show the world what I had to offer!

A certain young man from my college algebra class started to take notice of my new zeal for life and asked me out for lunch. He was an author from New Jersey and was studying as an English major and had already published his first book earlier that year. He was mysterious and intriguing, and we had a lovely time sharing stories back and forth over a slice of pizza. We stayed in touch for a few weeks after our lunch “date,” but between his work schedule and mid-terms, we couldn’t really find time for each other.  It was a brief chance meeting that left me wondering why we met (although our paths would cross again years later when I least expected it), but I just let it go. For the first time in my life, I didn’t pursue a man and just continued to dive into my studies in class and in the Word.

My first semester of college was quickly coming to an end, and I was pursuing God more than ever, but a part of my past was constantly tugging on my heart. I began to miss my involvement in theatre, although it was the very thing I used to hide from life. When you are struggling with identity issues, especially if you are trying to pursue God’s will for your life, the enemy will always tempt you to run back to the familiar- just look at the life of Peter in the Bible.

Before I left for Christmas Break, I auditioned for a 1940’s style musical that was being produced close to my hometown and got cast in one of the lead roles as Connie Miller, the cute, singing, tap-dancing, bobbysoxer that could melt your heart with a smile. Since my mom worked close to my college campus, she would pick me up at my dorm after she got off of work and drive us home so I could make it to rehearsals, and then I would commute with her back to campus in the morning. This would be our routine for almost three months. Those three months would affect my life greatly for years and begin the downward spiral back into hopelessness and darkness. It would take another three years before I saw the Light again. I had absolutely no idea that this innocent, fun, “golly-gee” musical would be a demonic tool from the enemy to seduce and deceive me straight back into the pit, bound strongly in heavy chains that only the Lord Jesus could break once I cried out Him. The problem was this: I lived as if Jesus was the Savior of my life, but not my Lord. I knew that He died for me, but I wasn’t willing to fully live for Him. I could be free, but I wasn’t willing to surrender my entire life to Him yet.

Chapter 2: Dragged Under

“Temptation comes from our own desires, which entice us and drag us away.” James 1:14 (NLT)

Rehearsals for the musical began at the end of November. During Thanksgiving break, the actor cast as my boyfriend in the show backed out, and the director quickly recast the role. At the next music rehearsal, I discovered the man they chose to play my boyfriend was a very familiar face- the director of my senior year’s spring musical in high school. He was nine years older than me, married to the choir teacher at my old high school, and was now playing my boyfriend in a musical. I have to admit, it was kind of weird at first because only six months prior he was an authority figure in my life. I respected him and his wife greatly, and I had to pretend to be in love with him. But over the next month, the situation would no longer feel weird to me, and I no longer would have to pretend to be in love with him.

After rehearsal one night, he asked for my number because he was going costume hunting over the weekend and said he would call me to give me details if I wanted to tag along. We didn’t end up going together, but he did call me when I got back to my dorm room that Sunday night. He started to talk to me about his costume ideas for a few minutes, and then quickly said he didn’t actually call me to talk about costumes, but to just talk to me because he was lonely. I thought he was joking around because that was his personality, but then he said it again. There was an uncomfortable silence, and then I changed the subject quickly. We talked about the show for a few more minutes, and then I had to let him go because I had homework to finish. The phone call started winding down and then he ended the conversation by telling me that he couldn’t wait to see me at rehearsal the next day. I hung up the phone seriously questioning his feelings towards me. Was he beginning to take his on-stage role with me off-stage?

The interaction during our scenes together started to become more believable as rehearsals went on, and he decided to add more physical affection during our time on-stage: holding hands and wrapping his arms around me more than what the script described. The way he gazed into my eyes during our duets was so intense and passionate. He would sing his love songs to me and my heart would just melt. It was becoming very difficult for me to separate my acting abilities from my true feelings for him. I began to have dreams about him and would count the hours until rehearsal so we could see each other once again. Was I starting to fall for him? A married man?

One night after rehearsal, he invited the cast over to his house to watch his film that he directed and produced. It was a documentary of his first year of marriage when he and his wife lived in Las Vegas. I pulled up to his house and didn’t see any other cars besides his and his wife’s. I knocked on the door, and he greeted me with a big smile and informed me that no one else could make it over to watch the movie with us. His wife welcomed me into their living room to have a seat and asked if I wanted anything to drink before she went off to bed.

I thought it was kind of odd that she wasn’t going to stay up and watch the film with us, but I kindly thanked her and told her good-night. So there I was, alone in the living room with my co-star who I was beginning to fall in love with in real life, and I was just about ready to watch a very personal and intimate documentary about his marriage. There were many moments I laughed at how candid he filmed certain scenes, until a scene near the end. He chose to film a very intense argument with his wife that he had in the car in a Las Vegas traffic jam. With the camera sitting on his lap, he captured the most heart-wrenching moment in the life of a newly-wed: his wife looked at him and regretted ever marrying him. She began to list everything she hated about him and told him he should just find someone else that would put up with him.

My mouth dropped open and tears began to fill my eyes. I looked at him and found tears filling his eyes too. I asked him if it was still like that and he nodded his head “yes.” I wanted to reach out to him and hold him, but instead, I put my hand on his knee and said, “I’m so sorry.” I confessed to him that I wanted to just give him a big hug, and he said that I could. So while this married man’s wife was in their bedroom sleeping, I held her husband kneeling on their living room floor as he wept on my shoulder. Our foreheads touched as our eyes were locked on each other for a moment and then he said, “You should go.”

I quickly grabbed my purse and keys and told him that I would see him at rehearsal. I cried the whole way home because I was finding myself in love (although I still had absolutely no idea what love was) with a married man whose marriage was failing and there wasn’t anything I could do about it. I know now that he painted a picture of his wife in that film that was so one-sided, and I had no idea what kind of husband he was behind closed doors. There are two sides to every story, but I chose to whole-heartedly believe and listen to his and completely ignore and re-write her’s by making huge assumptions about how evil she must have been to him all the time. I set it in my heart that I was going to rescue him from this wicked witch.

I started the second semester of college in a complete daze and spent a majority of my time in between classes on the phone with my new love interest. I couldn’t get my mind off of him. If too much time went by without contact outside of rehearsals, I sought out other men at school whom I barely knew for one night flings (although I still had not had sex yet) to just help me through the heartache of being separated from my deceitful heart’s desire. If I started to feel guilty of my behavior, I told myself that at least I was still a virgin (as if that was the only standard the Lord asked of me), which if we looked at the world’s standards of the situation, that would be true, but if we looked at Jesus’ standards, in my heart and in my soul, I was a far cry away from being a pure virgin unto the Lord.

A few weeks went by after that night in my co-star’s living room, and I finally had the courage to ask him what was happening between us. He told me that he loved me, and he didn’t know what he was going to do regarding his marriage. He was a Christian (a struggling one, of course) and didn’t believe in divorce because the Bible says “God hates divorce.” I responded, “But God doesn’t want you to go through life unhappy and miserable either!” If I knew more of the Word like I do now, it probably would have struck me that God hates adultery too, but I stayed as far away from that word as I possibly could. I was saving a married man from his hateful wife and bringing happiness and love back into his life again! I was doing good, right God? I was so deceived. He and I would fantasize about running away together and moving to Los Angeles where I would pursue a career as an actress and he as a film maker. My mind was consumed with these fantasies, which left very little room for any kind of concentration for school-work or most importantly, time in the Word.

The show opened and closed, and I tried to focus more on school-work now that play-time was over, but my thoughts were consumed with my love affair with this married man. My mom and step-dad were fully aware of my relationship with him because I was very open and honest with them about it. They just wanted to see me happy, and they saw my eyes light up when I talked about him. When I came home on the weekends, my mom and I would sit at the kitchen table as I explained our plans to her. He spoke to her on the phone a couple times and proclaimed his love for me to her. He promised we would be together in the end. I believed every single word, and at the same time felt ravaged inside.

Although the show was over, our love affair continued on. During the day, I would skip class so he and I could go on lunch dates. At night, he would drop his wife off at choir practice at the symphony hall down the street from my dorm and then swing by and pick me up for our weekly date-night in the city. He picked me up at my dorm week after week and whisked me away as we pretended to be married for a few hours. At restaurants, he would hold my hand across from the table and gaze into my eyes, telling me how much he loved me. I couldn’t help but wonder if people saw that he was wearing a wedding band and I wasn’t. I wanted him to be mine, and only mine.

One snowy afternoon, he filmed moments of our day adventure. He created a short-film out of the footage and gave it to me on a DVD as a gift. He made me feel so wanted and special to him. I was completely caught up in our magical movie wonderland love-story. I didn’t want my time with him to ever end; I tried my best to avoid reality at all cost.

I pretty much checked out from school.  I began distancing myself from mostly all of my friends at school because I did not want anyone to know of this secret-life I lived. The enemy will try to isolate you from those who could potentially speak truth and life into you, and I let him lead me away in deception, guilt, and shame. One evening after my lover and I had dinner, I began to ask him questions as to where he saw our relationship going. He avoided my questions and kept trying to change the subject, but constantly reassured me that he loved me. I began to sense his hesitancy with me and his mood changed very quickly. When he dropped me off at my dorm, he looked at me in the eyes and said, “This is your good-bye kiss. Your hello kiss is waiting for you.” I didn’t understand what he meant. He told me that this would be the last time he picked me up. He rushed me out of the car as I began to cry, and he drove off while blowing a kiss to me.

I ran up to my room and cried myself to sleep while listening to the burned CD he made me of his movie soundtrack that I listened to every night to help drown out the accusing voices in my head. I woke up the next morning determined that I would not let him go. I was entangled by him, obsessed with him, and completely a mess without him. We continued to talk on the phone during the day while his wife was at work, and he edited his movies from home. I would call late at night, but if his wife answered, I would quickly hang up, making sure to dial *67 to block my number, so she couldn’t dial *69 and call me back. I started coming home every weekend, so I could visit him in the middle of the night while his wife was sleeping. He would edit his movies late at night, and I would come up and tap on his window. He’d smile real big and meet me outside so we could go for walks and hold hands and make-out while dreaming about our future together one day. This would become my routine for many months and would create an obsessed, stalker-like personality within me.

It didn’t take long to lure him back in and our lunch dates resumed. He and I began to get more and more physical as the months went by. We would sneak away in public places and act like we were newlyweds who couldn’t get enough of each other. There were even a couple of times I would skip class for the entire day and visit him at his house, while his wife was at work, and we would fool around on his living room floor. Although we never had sex, I was an adulteress, plain and simple. I never let that word come across my mind though and stayed in denial that what I was doing was so wrong in God’s eyes. Coming in between a marriage, a covenant made before the Lord, was dangerous territory to be walking in. Even though I was completely blinded by my sin, I constantly acknowledged God and asked Him to help me get through this horribly dark situation, but I wasn’t willing to listen or obey His instruction at all. Because I couldn’t have what I wanted, I was constantly upset and sick to my stomach most of the time.

The chains of my sinful existence pulled me under deeper and deeper into the pit of destruction, and the yoke of depression was locked tightly around my neck. I was in a dark place, and I chose to make it my home because of my soul-ish desires to remain entangled with this married man and completely tune out God’s voice and utterly disregard His Word.

Even in the mist of rebellion and sin, mercifully covered by the grace of God (His mighty love and patience completely overwhelms my heart), I managed to finish my second semester of college with three A’s and one C. When I moved back home for summer break, I discovered that my brother took over the living space that I called mine, and there was no longer room for me in the house. My grandpa lived down the street and offered to let me stay with him for the summer. I moved all of my belongings into his upstairs and slept on a mattress on the floor. It was cozy and private and because my schedule was always jam-packed for distraction's sake, I was hardly there and didn't mind it. My lover and I couldn't see or speak to each other as much as we wanted to because his wife was a teacher and was now home for summer break as well. That didn't stop the devil from seducing me deeper into the pit of sin though. I had only been home for a week and temptation was already knocking on my door.

My first Friday night at home, I didn't have any plans, so I decided to sleep away the tormenting thoughts (for a few hours at least). Suddenly, my cell phone rang. It was my ex-boyfriend from high school. His university hadn't dismissed for the summer yet, so he was still living on campus. His roommate already finished his finals early, so he was alone in his dorm room now. Somehow he found out that I was back home and wanted to know if I wanted to come visit him. The university was only about fifteen minutes from where I was staying, so it wouldn't be a big deal to hop in the car and stop by for a little bit, even though it was getting pretty late. I quickly (and strategically) got dressed, sprayed on his favorite perfume, and took off in my car.

I arrived on campus, and he greeted me with a half hug at front door of his dorm. We sat on his bed and chit-chatted about the school year. Of course I said nothing about my secret, married lover, but he was on the back of my mind the whole time, along with high school memories of my ex and I. We decided to "watch" a movie. One thing lead to another and all of a sudden, we were under the covers with our hands all over each other. I lay in his arms and told him how much I missed him and what we had.

The moment was flooded with emotions and images of our past together flashing through my mind. My heart yearned for him just like it had years before when we were once a couple. The movie and the passionate moment with him ended, and he suggested that I go back home. He walked me to my car as I asked him what that all just meant. He shrugged his shoulders, said, "I'm not sure," and kissed me on the forehead. I cried all the way home. What have I got myself into? Who am I? These questions whirled around in my head as I tried to make sense of what my life had come to.

I tried to drown out these questions by volunteering to direct the children's musical, as well as auditioning for one of my favorite musicals with the same company that produced the 1940's musical production that strangled and seduced my heart months before. My married lover was auditioning as well, and as much to my surprise, along with his wife. I was determined to get the female lead role because I had played it before in high school and because I just knew my secret lover would be cast as the male lead alongside of me. I could not wait to "pretend" to be in love with him on-stage again! I nailed the audition and patiently waited for the cast list to be revealed the next day. To my devastation, I was not cast in the lead female role, but my secret lover did receive the male lead part (a part of me believes the Lord somehow intervened with this one). My fantasy was crushed, but I would not let a casting issue get in my way. We still saw each other at rehearsals every night and I had a few scenes with him. It wasn't easy dodging his wife to sneak away and talk to him about his plans after rehearsals, but somehow my schemes worked, and our late-night walks, while she slept completely unaware, continued on into the summer.

My scheming almost cost me (if it all hadn't already). One late night during the weekend in between rehearsals, I went for my usual stalking-drive by his house to make sure he was home. He was outside in the yard working on some props for the show, while his wife was in the house sleeping as always. I sat on a milk-crate in the yard with him and just kept him company while he created and fashioned the giant plant puppets. All of a sudden, the front door opened. My heart stopped. What happened next was nothing short of a miracle and living proof of God’s gracious and merciful hand still over-shadowing me, warning me, and offering me an escape and another chance to turn from my wicked ways. As she stood in the doorway, the only thing she could see from behind the screen door was my white tennis shoes; the rest of my body was in the shadows (isn't that prophetic...). She asked who was sitting with him in the yard. He quickly named a male friend of his, and here's another miracle...she was so sleepy that she believed him! She told him to come inside soon and then she yawned, wiped her eyes, and said good-night to the both of us. He looked at me and mouthed "Don't say a word."

After she closed the door and walked back to the bedroom, he told me to run. I ran as fast as I could down the street to my car with my heart pounding out of my chest. He ran after me and started laughing while I fought to hold back the tears. He kissed me good-night and said he would see me at rehearsal. With streams of tears running down my face, I drove away while the song by singer/songwriter Anna Nalick played in the background and so perfectly described what just happened:

“Driving away from the wreck of the day and I’m thinking about calling on Jesus/ Love doesn’t hurt, so I know I’m not falling in love, I’m just falling to pieces…”

During those summer months, I began to question if I wanted to go back to the same college or not. I talked it over with a close friend of mine who was transferring schools in the fall to study musical theatre. I was immediately jealous. I wanted to study something I loved too! I didn't want to be an English teacher anymore. I started to research schools in the area who were accepting transfer-students that close to the fall semester.

I found a local state university about forty-five minutes from my hometown, and they had a Theater Education program listed on their website that grabbed my attention. The program was brand-new and pending for approval for accreditation, but would mostly like be approved within a year. I began the application process, and my transfer request was approved within a few weeks. I didn't consult God. I didn't seek His counsel. I didn't pray about it or meditate on the Word whatsoever. I based my decision solely on emotion, and jealousy at that. This was a move that would come with many consequences: more separation from the things of God, more painful circumstances, strong chains and bondage of pride and arrogance, regret, more dysfunctional and emotionally scarring relationships, and more debt tied to a college degree that would sit on the shelf with absolutely no professional use even to this day. I loved the thrill that theatre brought into my life, and I was ready to spend the next few years studying my true passion.

Rehearsals for the children’s musical continued to fill my hours during the day, and rehearsals for my show filled the hours in the evening. I could tell that my lover was beginning to distance himself now that his wife was around us constantly, and she was starting to become a little suspicious of our interaction. As the children’s musical was wrapping up, I was introduced to my producer’s son who was the same age as me and was also attending the same university I had just transferred to. He started to become interested in me and eventually asked his dad for my number. He was a pianist in the band in the musical, so we were able to spend a little time together during rehearsals as we approached opening night. He was very friendly and talented, but I only saw him as a friend and wasn’t really attracted to him more than that. He definitely was attracted to me and tried extremely hard to win me over.

After one of our performances, I was putting my props and costumes away for the next show and heard him playing the piano backstage. I asked him if that was an original song. He responded, “Yes. I wrote it for you. It’s called Emily Rose.” My heart melted at the thought that someone would write a song for me and name it after me. Although my heart was still reserved for my married lover, a part of me was beginning to fall for this young musician.

We spent hours on the phone getting to know each other, and I eventually confessed to him about the affair I was tangled up in for many months.  He was appreciative for my openness to bare my heart and was very comforting and understanding about the whole situation. He was more disappointed at the fact that I was taken advantage of and disgusted with this so-called man. He said he wanted to protect me and show me I was worth so much more than what I had allowed myself to become ensnared by.

After the musical came to a close, I moved in with my dad, who still lived in the same town as the rest of my family, and began preparing for the new school year at my new school. I spent the last few weeks of summer vacation going on a couple “dates” with my new musician friend. I was still struggling with letting my married lover go, so I was a little hesitant to get too involved with this other relationship, but as school started back up, my heart also started to grow fond of him.

One day, I ran into him in the hallway in between classes. I felt butterflies, and my heart seemed to skip a beat. These weren’t feelings that I had for him the month before. That night, I decided to give him a call and share my heart with him. We went on our first official date as a couple later that week. I had a good feeling about this new relationship, and it truly felt right in my heart, but my feelings and heart had deceived me many times before.

Chapter 3: Bound in the Pit

“Jesus replied, “Very truly I tell you, everyone who sins is a slave to sin.’” John 8:34 (NIV)

My new love interest kept me distracted from the affair that had stolen my life for close to a year. Instead of allowing the Lord to heal and restore me, I chose to replace and bury my feelings for my married lover. Although we did not talk anymore, there were many times I reminisced about our times together, and my heart was constantly divided and not fully devoted to much of anything or anyone. I kept pushing on into my new-found college relationship, all while pushing the limits of our physical affection. I told myself that I would continue to keep my vow to virginity, and although it did bother me that my new boyfriend was not a virgin, I thought I could be strong for the both of us. Only two months into our relationship, I was pressured into giving away a gift that was meant only for my future husband on my wedding day.

I was flooded with guilt and condemnation. How could I give away such a precious gift so freely? I made a vow to God, my future spouse, and my future children! I obviously didn't have a solid understanding that I had already given away so much of myself already. I also didn't understand the importance of repentance and covering the Blood of Jesus over my sinfulness. I felt even more filthy and wanted a "re-do." The very next Sunday, I dragged my boyfriend to church and hoped that merely sitting in the sanctuary would make the guilt go away and make me feel clean again. It did not.

So instead of running to God, I ran further and further away from Him because I knew how much I had disappointed Him. I allowed myself to get even more wrapped up in the things of the world. School took over my mind during the week, and very quickly, the door to college parties and alcohol swung wide open to help relieve the stress on the weekends. There were many drunken nights at friends' apartments that ended in sleeping over with my boyfriend at his place. Our relationship was approaching the year mark, and we began talking about marriage. I did some soul searching one night and had explained to my boyfriend that I would like stop having sex with him and wait until our wedding day. You would have thought I chopped off one of his limbs. We definitely had one of our first intense arguments that night, but by the end of our conversation, his words assured me that he was in agreement with me.

His words assured me, but his secretive actions after that night did not. The summer in between my sophomore year and junior year of college was our unraveling. His secrets and lies began to increase, as did mine. He began spending time with young women from school explaining how he was either working out with one or giving another one piano lessons. He went on coffee dates with ex-girlfriends and began talking to a friend of mine from the theatre department that I had introduced him to. We managed to stay together even when I found earrings on his nightstand and even when he wouldn't answer his door after rehearsal one night when I knew he was home. He began to distance himself and so did I. That summer I was performing in two musicals at school and spent a lot more time with my cast-mates after rehearsals instead of my boyfriend. I started to become especially close to one of my co-stars who played my boyfriend in one of the shows- a situation all too familiar.

One night, some cast members all went to a karaoke bar for a friend's birthday, and I flirted with my co-star all night, making jokes that I may just have to break up with my boyfriend so we could be together in real life. I talked to him on the phone all night and the next day, I called and broke up with my boyfriend and quickly made plans with my co-star to spend time with him. I got drunk at a party, made out with another girl during a game of truth or dare, went home with my co-star, and had sex with him. The next morning, I felt like a ton of bricks had fallen on me both physically and emotionally. I rushed over to my now ex-boyfriend's house and confessed everything and asked for his forgiveness. He forgave me and we agreed to work on strengthening our relationship, but my co-star didn't want to stop playing games with me, even though he knew I was trying to work on my relationship with my boyfriend. I was still very much attracted to my co-star and joined in on the games.

I acted like a fool at our cast parties, drinking heavily and smoking pot for the first time, making out with my female cast-mates, walking around half-naked in my underwear because I was dared to, and continued the heavy flirting. If all of that foolishness wasn't enough, I got back in touch with my married lover whose wife had moved about two hours away to finish her Master's degree. They remained married, but they might as well have been separated. I would hang out with him and some theatre friends of ours, watching movies at his house. Of course, I didn't say a word to my boyfriend about it.

School started back up for the fall semester, and my boyfriend and I just kept going through the motions. My grades suffered majorly. I couldn't focus whatsoever because my personal life was such a wreck. I didn’t care anymore and even went as far as plagiarizing just to finish a paper. The professor confronted me about it and I acted completely unaware of the issue. It was the mercy of God that I wasn’t expelled from the school. Meanwhile, my boyfriend continued his coffee dates with a friend of mine from school as they discussed the original music he wrote for an upcoming student production she was directing. I attended one of the performances and afterwards, he and I got into an argument because he refused to let me go with him to the cast party that night. He dropped me off at my car. I then walked to the house where he was house-sitting that week, and as he was pulling out of the drive way, I couldn't believe my eyes; there in the front seat with him was the show's director! He tried to drive away, but she allowed him to let me in the back seat. I had no idea what was going on and they acted like nothing was wrong. Is this real life?!

He dropped me off at my car once again and peeled off. I drove home and tried to calm down from my panic attack. Once I caught my breath, I continuously dialed his phone number to talk to him. Of course, he didn't answer. I called another friend who was involved in the show and was apparently with the rest of the cast. She told me that I needed to just let it go and get some sleep. I cried the rest of the night until there were no more tears left.

Late that Sunday evening, I went to visit him and he actually let me through the door. He refused to talk to me, but didn't refuse my body, of course. I slipped in bed with him and lay on his chest. He told me he just couldn't do it anymore- a phrase I had heard once before in my life. We were over. After he calmed me down, I left to drive home. I thought to myself: What is this hell that I live? This isn't what I wanted from life at all. Where was my prince-charming?

A couple nights went by, and I drove by his apartment to see if we could talk this all out. The director from the student production was parked behind the dumpster at his apartment. Obviously, he did not answer the door, no matter how hard I banged on it. After much frustration, I left to go visit a girlfriend of mine. I collapsed on her couch and poured out my heart. "Honey, he has been cheating on you with her for a long time now. He drunkenly confessed it at the cast party," she said. I felt like a bus hit me. I didn't know who I was anymore, and I didn't know who I had just spent the last year of my life with. This isn't the prince charming that I imagined would sweep me off of my feet and make me feel so loved and precious. I was empty. I had no emotion left. I went completely numb.

I called both my ex-boyfriend from high school and my married lover. I wanted someone to tell me that I was worth so much more than all of this. I needed to hear them tell me that I was beautiful, that he made such a huge mistake, that I deserved so much more. They comforted me the best they could, and after I got off the phone with my married lover, he suggested that I come over and hang out and watch a movie with some of our friends. I ended up spending the night and slept on the floor with another female theatre friend of ours who was a couple years younger than me. For some reason, I didn't question as to why she was always over at his house too, even though she also just recently played his girlfriend in a musical earlier that summer. After she fell asleep, he sat up in the dark with me and held me. He kissed me on the forehead and stayed next to me until I fell asleep. Somehow this complicated situation comforted me…for the moment.

Throughout my junior year of college, bitterness choked my heart as I spent most of my energy wanting to take revenge towards anyone who had ever hurt me. I started to focus on my acting career. I got heavily involved in theatre productions and the lifestyle that goes along with it. The house I lived in was called "the party house" that year and all of my roommates were gay, bi-sexual, or lesbian. Because of the sexual diversity, I got myself tangled up in attending gay bars and clubs, allowing men and women to grope me as I drunkenly danced the night away.

That was the year that began the flood of soul-ties that would overwhelm my life: one-night stands wrapped up in confusion, self-hatred, and a deep longing to be loved. One night, I was actually told that I was worth more than gold. Those words completely moved my heart, and then of course, I gave him whatever he wanted. But they were just empty words. I wanted to find someone who genuinely loved me, but it always just ended up with meaningless sex. I would wake up in bed with practical strangers or someone who's last name was completely unknown to me. I tried to date, but it was never anything that lasted because commitment was never even an option; everyone was too focused on themselves and their careers. Marriage was looked upon as bondage. At parties, I drank to make the pain go away, then drive home (if no one took me with them) and not remember how I got in my own bed. I thank the Lord, my God, that I never killed anyone or myself when I foolishly decided to do that. It was completely selfish and idiotic.

I somehow managed to find enough focus to improve my grades in school and was becoming a straight-A student once again. One afternoon, while taking a break from homework, I was checking my email and saw a very familiar name in my inbox. My author-friend, whom I met my freshman year of college, sent a mass email letting all of his contacts know about his book signings around the area. I decided to respond to his invitation and see if he remembered me. We started chatting back and forth through email, and he eventually gave me his phone number to call him. We talked on the phone almost every night for hours upon hours for around six months straight. As my usual, unhealthy, co-dependent cycle continued, I started to fall in love with him and create a fantasy in my head of running away with him. He moved to Florida and invited me to come visit him later that summer. I couldn’t wait for us to meet once again. Meanwhile, I still sought out more and more relationships to fill that ever-growing crater in my heart. As usual, they never amounted to anything more than a sexual encounter.

I tried to distract myself by getting more involved in school and theatre productions. I spent the summer in between my junior and senior year taking classes during the day and rehearsing two shows at night. I kept my eyes out for my new summer fling and had a couple throughout the course of the first production. To my surprise, my married lover was in the cast for the second show, and I wondered if an old flame would reignite. His wife was still away at school, and although they were still married, he wasn’t wearing his wedding ring anymore. We went to dinner one night after rehearsal, and his demeanor was not so kind towards me like it had been in the past. He began blaming me for struggles with his secret relationship with another friend of ours. Just weeks before, I reached out to her when I was suspicious of their interaction (I caught them heavy petting while he was sitting on the porch talking to his wife on the phone). He was playing the same game with this poor girl, but told me that it was more serious than our relationship ever was. I was to keep my nose out of his business and stop talking to her about him.

Needless to say, we did not speak for the remainder of the rehearsal process. One night after rehearsal, I was driving home and my cell phone rang. I didn’t recognize the number but decided to answer it anyway. It was his wife. She was completely distraught and did not know who to speak to about her failing marriage. She began to ask me if I knew anything about her husband’s relationship with our friend. She had found video footage of them together in his bedroom. She didn’t know what to do. At that moment, I was faced with a serious decision: do I rat out this deceived young woman, even though I was that very same adulteress, or do I confess my own sins and beg for forgiveness? I would love to say that I took the high road and confessed my sins to this woman, but I did not. I shared stories of her husband and his most recent adulteress and kept silent of my own red hands. She thanked me for my honesty. I hung up the phone and walked into the house shamefully. My chains were becoming heavier and heavier.

I finished up my summer classes and the shows and hopped on the plane to Florida for a week. My author-friend was still very hesitant with me and said it would make him more comfortable if I didn't visit him by myself, so I decided to take my brother with me. My brother stayed in the hotel room for most of the trip, while I tried to make my over-the-phone fantasy relationship become reality. That week was full of head-games, as my friend toyed with my heart making me think he was falling for me too. We kissed and held hands the last few days I was there. Our good-bye at the airport was difficult, but he gave me one of his books with a note on the inside cover to keep me company on the flight home.

He continued to confess his love to me for a few weeks after I returned home saying things like "I'm at a wedding and thinking of you" or "I miss you so much." He told me he loved me constantly, but neither one of us knew that a part from God, love doesn’t exist. I was actually starting to make plans to move to Florida and pursue my acting career there to be closer to him, but all of that came to an end in an email stating that he "couldn't be with someone who wasn't strong enough to remain a virgin." My heart was pierced at that statement. Even after he hurt me so deeply, we still talked on the phone in between classes, but when he started to see other women, our friendship eventually fizzled out- add another one to the pile and hear the chains dragging behind me.

My soul-ties strangled the life out of me.  I probably had sex or was intimately involved with over 20 different men, possibly more, by my senior year of college. I had given so much of my body, soul, and heart to so many men, there didn’t seem to be much left of me. There were so many nights where I would lay in bed and cry out to God to help me, but I was never willing to fully surrender it all to the Lord. I chose to exist in the pit. I had tried to read a few Christian books that a sweet Christian friend of mine recommended to me, but it only made me see how far from grace I had fallen. How could God forgive someone like me? I am such a failure. I had not attended church or picked up my Bible in three years. My heart was so bitter and hardened. I had been cheated on, lied to, played with, and I trusted no one, not even myself. I longed to find my true soul-mate, but I was broken and so utterly hurt. Out of desperation for change, I began to re-read a book that I bought in high school after my huge break-up called "When God Writes Your Love Story" by Eric and Lesly Ludy.

In that book, they discuss how important it is to pray for your future mate and even go as far as writing love letters to them. I decided to give it a try:

For You, My Soul-mate (12/5/2007)

It’s almost 1 am on a cold, early winter’s night

I can’t seem to fall asleep

Because I’m thinking of you.

You see, we haven’t met yet,

At least I don’t think we have.

I’m praying that you aren’t lonely

Because somewhere I am thinking of you.

I just wanted to let you know

That it won’t always be this way.

You are worth all of this alone time.

God has placed an image of you in my heart.

You will be there until the day we finally meet.

And on that day, I’ll know it’s you.

There won’t be a doubt in my mind or heart.

I’ll know when it’s finally you.

I knew you existed;

I just needed to wait in God’s time.

You are everything I’ve hoped for.

Sweet dreams, my love.

Sweet dreams.

I went to bed feeling hopeful, but the next morning, it was just a poem to me and wasn't enough to keep me grounded or seeking the Lord for direction. I was in charge of my life, and I was going to make something of myself. In the midst of planning for my acting career, my ex from college began confiding in me about his failing relationship with the same young woman he left me for. They were still living together, but there was trouble in paradise. He invited me over to their place while she was out of town. We slept together that night, and I was on my way in the morning. Nothing more, nothing less. It didn’t even seem to faze me anymore. It was just my life, and I did not have any remorse about it. So many one-night stands with random men, I lost count.

I craved approval from anyone who would give it and was so drenched in pride and selfish ambition. As I neared graduation, I focused all of my attention on making a name for myself as I networked with professionals in the entertainment industry. I had made up my mind that I was moving to Los Angeles, and I was going to become a famous actress. “Everyone will regret the way they treated me when they see who I will become! I'm going to be a star,” I would say to myself. So I began getting everything for my plan in order. Roommate- check. Furniture- check. Nanny job to save up money for the move- check. Meanwhile, God was working on something else and would close all doors leading to MY PLAN.

Chapter 4: Crying Out

“In my distress I called upon the Lord; to my God I cried for help. From his temple he heard my voice, and my cry to him reached his ears.”

Psalm 18:6 (ESV)

I graduated college with a Bachelor of Arts degree and Cum Laude honors. Although school was no longer a part of my life, I still continued the vicious cycle of overcrowding my schedule only for the sole purpose of distracting myself from realizing my life was a disaster and that I had made my home in the pit of sin. I moved back home with my dad and was only there enough to sleep.  I worked ten hour days at a small daycare and then rushed off to rehearsal for the two summer musicals I was cast in once again. I was constantly stressed and exhausted, which usually resulted in a frenzy of panic attacks and hyperventilating until I passed out. Theatre helped me escape reality and was my false security. Since I didn’t understand that I could find true security in Jesus, I was constantly running away from my problems by filling my life with more relationships and more parties and more career plans- idolatry to the one-millionth degree. I was born to worship, but for such a long time I worshipped myself and anything else in my life that helped numb my pain.

Meanwhile, my dad’s alcoholism resurfaced. I found countless bottles of beer in the fridge and in the trash, along with pornographic DVD’s scattered on the living room floor. One night, I came home after rehearsal and he was gone. I finally managed to fall asleep and my cell phone rang. My dad slurred his words enough to tell me that I needed to come bail him about of jail; he was drinking and driving and got pulled over. He had done this numerous times before and when I was in high school it almost cost him his life. He managed to get away from that accident with just a broken pelvis that had to be supported with a metal plate. Did he not remember how he almost died?! How stupid could he be to do all of that again?! It was ironic that it bothered me that much, considering I was driving home drunk almost every weekend just a few months earlier.  I refused to take the giant plank out of my own eye and refused to bail him out and told him someone else could do it.

His foolish behavior only increased as the months went by. He eventually lost his license and began asking my brother to pick him up at strip clubs in the middle of the night. He started dating a stripper who was my age and paying her bills. Because of my life at home, I never wanted my theatre productions to end, but they did. I didn’t want to face my life anymore. I hated myself and my life.

But God’s light broke through the darkness one night as I visited my mom. She had been watching a preacher on TV from a nearby city early on Sunday mornings after my step-dad went off to work. She said she knew I would like him and wanted me to listen to one of his sermons. I sat at the computer with tears filling my eyes as he talked about God’s goodness and love. “God’s not mad at you. He’s mad about you,” he said while looking into the camera. My heart seemed to be revived in that moment. Even though his church was forty-five minutes to an hour away, we made plans to go.

July 4th weekend, I experienced a kind of freedom that can only come from the Lord, God Almighty.  I attended a church service for the first time in three years. During worship, I was consumed by God’s presence and overwhelmed by His love. I felt His arms wrap around me and heard the Holy Spirit whisper in my ear, “Welcome home.” Tears streamed down my face, as I lifted my hands in surrender. I cried out to the Lord wholeheartedly. How I missed God’s presence! How I needed the Father’s embrace! That day was monumental and began the process of this prodigal daughter making her way back home to the Father. Although my spirit was surrendered and ready for the journey back to the firm foundation of Jesus Christ, my Rock, my flesh wasn’t ready for the changes that were about to take place, as the Lord would begin speaking to my heart, asking me to leave the old behind and embrace the new.

Even as I attended church three times a week, I wrestled with letting my plans go and fully following God. I wanted the Lord’s help, but still on own my terms. I struggled finding a solid nanny position and only had temporary work, which made saving money for my move to LA very difficult. I finally found a family that understood my situation and was willing to hire me until I moved within the year. To prepare for my life as an actress, I bought a gym membership to keep my bod looking as Hollywood as possible. With that membership, I received a free personal training session. The male trainer was about eight years older than me and single. Since he had my cell phone number from my registration papers, he decided to pursue me and asked me out on a date.

I was trying my best to walk in righteousness and of course, the enemy was doing his best to divert my attention from walking on the narrow path. I tried so hard to take my time with our relationship and even shared my faith with him and invited him to attend church with me, but he was just all the other men in my life. He was just looking for sex and just like I had done so many times before, I gave myself away once again-another soul-tie that would need to be untied.  Since I was attempting to seek the Lord, I sensed the conviction of the Holy Spirit and broke it off with him immediately. Of course, this only led to harassment at the gym. He would completely blow me off when he saw me, but then apologize later in a text message, all while letting me know how he couldn’t stop staring at my butt while I was running on the tread-mill. Obviously, I stopped working out at that gym and focused on working out my spiritual muscles instead. In the midst of that brief relationship, I was let go from my nanny job. I was told it just wasn’t the right fit. Now what?! This was my ticket to LA! I scrambled to find another family who would understand my plans, but could only find part-time positions, which wouldn’t be enough to save up the kind of money I needed to make the move to the west coast.

I started to question my move altogether. Was this meant to be? If God wanted me to pursue a career in Hollywood, wouldn’t He open the door and make a way? These questions circled my mind, and I began to pray and seek God’s counsel for the first time in my life. He answered me one day while I was volunteering with my mom as we prepared for our church’s new campus, which was to open in just a couple weeks. While I was painting, a new friend from church introduced me to a woman who helped with the drama ministry. She was looking for an actress to play a role, and she believed I was supposed to play it, but my friend interrupted her and explained that I wouldn’t be around much longer because I was moving to LA. “I’m not so sure about all of that right now,” I said. The drama director looked me and said, “Well, you have been a part of your own story for so long, now God is asking you to be a part of His.”

Those words resounded so clearly in my heart. God was asking me to lay down my plans and follow His instead. That night, I called my friend who was going to be my roommate in LA and explained to her that I was going to have to put a hold on my move. I wasn’t ready to fully surrender that plan just yet, but was willing to wait on God- at least it was a start.

Step 2:

The Chisel

Chapter 5: Marred in His Hands

“And the vessel that [the potter] made of clay was marred in the hand of the potter; so he made it again into another vessel, as it seemed good to the potter to make.”

Jeremiah 18:4 (NKJV)

While living at home with my dad, I started to tell him about all that I was learning at church. He thought I was foolish for wasting all of my gas driving to church, but for me, it was so worth every penny. I found a part-time nanny job and tutored two students twice a week after school, which helped me make it to church three times a week if my family couldn’t come with me. I even began giving the little that I had left over in the offering. I knew I desperately needed a heart change, and I was allowing the Lord to change me from the inside out, no matter how hard it was to let go of old ways. I was hungry for God and began to pursue Him with everything in me.

Since I only worked part-time, I was able to spend my mornings and early afternoons in prayer and reading, although I still didn’t dive into the Bible just yet. A church leader suggested to my mom that I read “Purpose-Driven Life” by Rick Warren. I read a chapter a day faithfully every day for 40 days, answered the questions at the end of each chapter, and wrote down all that was stirred up within me in my journal.

I was cast in a play in early fall, so I wasn’t able to attend church during the midweek service because of rehearsals, but the director of the show was flexible enough with me if I wanted to attend, especially once I became active in the church’s drama ministry. I was making new friends at church and forming great relationships with many of the leaders there. The thought of moving away and leaving my new church family began to weigh heavy on my heart. I truly felt like I belonged there, and it felt like home. My family and I started attending church gatherings to get to know more people better.

One in particular that comes to mind was a hayride and bonfire at a local pumpkin patch. I was meeting a guy there that I had been talking to for a couple of weeks, but he didn’t pay too much attention to me that night. I didn’t get too worked up about it because I was still enjoying myself. I met some more people that night who are still in my life even today, including a very special young man named Paul. He sat by me on the hayride and listened as I talked about myself the whole time. The Lord was patiently working with me on that pride issue. I told him how I went to school for theatre, how I used to work for Radio Disney for three years in college, and how a part of me felt like I was supposed to be a light for God in Hollywood.

“But a part of me isn’t sure that I’m supposed to go,” I said.

He replied, “Well I’m sure God will reveal it to you if you are supposed to stay. He will show you the reason.”

I found out months later that in the back of his mind he was thinking: And I’m that reason, you just don’t know it yet. The night ended, and I thanked him for talking with me. After we got in the car, my mom said, “I don’t think you’re supposed to be with that boy you met here. I don’t really like him. You should really keep talking to that Paul fella. I like him.”

“Mom, it’s not like I have to pick one! I’m not dating anyone right now! I’m moving soon.” I rebuked.

“Well, if you do, you should pick Paul,” she casually replied.

I just sat quietly in the backseat the rest of the way home and never had another thought about it. Little did I know, Paul had already picked me.

The next night, I attended a musical at my university to support some of my friends who were in the show. I decided to tag along with some of my old college buddies by inviting myself to the cast party. Although I was truly trying to leave my past behind and follow God, I found myself walking into familiar territory and old habits fell back into place that night. Familiar may be comfortable, but it isn’t always best for our lives, especially when God is trying to take us higher. A friend and I ran by the grocery store to grab the alcohol and head to the party, just like I had done so many times before. Each of us had a bottle of wine to consume. We pulled up to the house and walked downstairs where everyone was. My eyes caught the eyes of a familiar face and my stomach churned. My ex from college was there because he played the piano in the show. He was still dating the same young woman that he left me for years prior, but she wasn’t with him that night. He was spending the night flirting with the host of the party and going off into dark rooms with her. Memories of the way he played with my heart came flooding into my mind, and I immediately became upset. I went outside to get away and settle my emotions. I stood outside by my car and began to pray. “God, I don’t want any of this back. I don’t want to go back to all of this pain. Help me, “I cried.

As I wiped the tears away and headed back inside, my ex stopped me. He was angry and began to accuse me of being the reason people thought he was a “man-whore.” I told him that I had better things to do than talk about him to anyone. “I’ve graduated! I’ve moved on! I don’t have time to tell others of how you act. If they believe that about you, it’s your own fault,” I yelled. I stormed inside and proceeded to drink an entire bottle of wine, all while falling apart in a room away from the rest of the party. My friends tried to console me as I poured out all that had resurfaced regarding my ex and I. I somewhat sobered up a few hours later and drove my friend and I home.

I didn’t make it to church that next morning, but made sure I was able to attend the evening service. The pastor was talking about forgiveness and asked us if we were holding onto past hurts. His words were tugging on my heart, and I knew I needed to forgive my ex, especially after the events that occurred the night before. I released my ex that night and laid all of my pain down at the feet of Jesus. Immediately following service, Paul, the young man from the hayride a couple nights before, approached me and my mom.

“A few of us were going to the movies the other night and no one had your number to see if you wanted to go,” he nervously told me.

“So um…um…”

“Would you like it?” I asked with a smirk.

“Uh…yeah, that’d be great.”

I handed him my business card with my headshot on the front. Emily Rose Mollet- Actress. Singer. Dancer. I was so full of myself and had serious identity problems, but the Lord was working on me, as I slowly let Him. Paul thanked me and told me to have a good night. I looked at my mom and squealed, knowing deep down that the Lord needed me to let go of my past to bring something new into my life. Later that week, I volunteered to chaperone for a field trip with the youth group and was paired up with Paul (which I’m pretty sure he had somehow arranged that). We didn’t do a good job chaperoning because we spent the entire night talking to each other and ignored the rest of the group. He asked me to go out to dinner with him that weekend so we could get to know each other better.

That date lasted over ten hours. It was obvious there was a connection between us. He had an amazing sense of humor, and I could tell that he had a huge heart for God and His Kingdom. At about one in the morning, he dropped me off at my car. We hugged good-night and said we would see each other in the morning at church. He took me out to lunch after service, and we spent the entire afternoon talking and getting to know each other even more. We sat in his car talking about the sermon, and I shared my heart with him about where I was before I came back to the Lord. He had a completely different experience than me because all he knew was the house of God and being in fellowship with the Lord. I discovered that the very same ministry he had served in since he was seven years old was the very same ministry God used to bring me to him. He had served in the TV department at the church running cameras and assistant producing the program that my mom would watch on Sunday mornings. I was beginning to see God’s hand in this whole story even though it had just begun.

At one moment our eyes locked and he reached for my hand. “I have something to ask you,” he said.

“Yes…” I respond with my heart beating faster.

“Everyone else in your life has always stolen kisses from you, and I wanted to ask you for one this time. Emily, can I kiss you?” he gently asked me.

I nodded my head, and he leaned in and kissed me. I had kissed so many men at this point I my life, but this one could not ever be compared to any of them at all. It will forever be marked on my heart and mind. I was completely smitten by this boy (yes, he was a boy at only 18 years old). After the evening service that night at church, he began introducing me to his family and friends. He couldn’t stop smiling because his friends had been telling him that he had absolutely no chance with me because he was so much younger than me. He by no means behaved like any 18 year old I knew, so I didn’t even notice the age difference. Later that night, he took me to the park by church, and we sat on a bench with his arm around me. I lay my head on his shoulder and looked up at the stars, wondering how someone like me, someone with such a dark past, could possibly end up with someone like him.

We walked to the car with our arms around each other; I fit perfectly under his arm. My heart began to grow heavy as I thought about how we were going to make this all work with me moving to Los Angeles.  I told him that I didn’t want him to worry about me moving because God would work it all out somehow. He wouldn’t bring us together to tear us a part. Paul looked at me and said, “I’ve never felt this way about anyone before.”

“Me either. This is different. I know we haven’t known each other that long, but I want to be with you for the rest of my life.”

“Me too. Emily, I want to grow old with you.”

That night there was no doubt in either of our minds or hearts that we were supposed to get married. We just trusted God would work out all of the details, and we would follow His leading. I didn’t really know what that looked like yet, but Paul was an amazing teacher. Over the next few weeks and months, he and the Holy Spirit would guide me and correct me regarding faith and my mouth (I still cussed like a sailor and allowed worry to plague my heart). Little by little, all of those issues and struggles were chipping away. I was so damaged and my heart had been hurt so many times, but no one is too far-gone for God to work with. I was in His hands now.

Life at home was still difficult because my dad’s alcoholism was only getting worse. I invited Paul over one night to watch a movie, and my dad stood in the hallway with a beer in his hand and just mumbled something, which almost sounded like a growl. I tried to explain to Paul that my dad hadn’t been himself lately, but Paul had already made up in his mind that I really needed to move out because it wasn’t healthy. The next day, Paul, my mom, and my brother helped me move all of my belongings over to my grandpa’s house while my dad was at work. I loved my dad, but I couldn’t watch him do this to himself anymore. He called me later that night and I told him that. He didn’t understand and hung up on me. God’s love surrounded me, and I ran harder after Him than I ever had before.

Chapter 6: Life upon the Rock

“He set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand.” Psalm 40:2b (NIV)

“[He] set my feet upon a rock, and established my steps.” Psalm 40:2b (NKJV)

As I attended church regularly and started listening to teachings by Joyce Meyer and other well-known preachers Paul suggested, I began to lose a desire for spending time with my friends from college or auditioning for shows or indie-films. I was finishing up rehearsals for the play I was performing in at a local community college and had just got cast in a supportive role in a local film, but really just wanted to spend my time volunteering at church instead. God the Potter was chiseling away at my hardened heart that was beginning to become a little more pliable and began to take junk out of my heart that He didn’t put there. I longed to walk in truth and light. I was hungry for God’s Word and listened to teachings all the time.

I finally landed a nanny job for a precious couple who were both dentists. During nap-time, I was dreaming of weddings and my life with Paul. We had been talking about our wedding plans, especially the date (even though we weren’t engaged yet) and for some reason, December sounded like a great month. We were both December babies and enjoyed the cooler weather much more than the hot, summer months. As we neared our one-month dating anniversary, I decided to type up the poem I wrote my soul-mate while I was in college, since I believed I had finally found my soul-mate. As I read through it, the date caught my eye- December 5th. I quickly rang to my phone to see what day December 5th fell on the following year. It was a Saturday- the day most weddings take place on! December 5th had to be our wedding day! I put the poem in a frame and eagerly awaited our one-month dating anniversary to approach, so I could surprise him with this happy news.

Paul and I didn’t get to see each other much during the week because he traveled for work, so we spent a majority of our time on the phone with each other for hours, sometimes into the early morning. When we couldn’t talk on the phone, I wrote him love letters to help pass the time until he got off work. This made me look forward to church on Sundays even more than before because it was when we finally could see each other face to face. He wasn’t the only reason I loved going to church. I was learning how to listen to God’s voice and wait on Him. There were a lot of decisions I was going to have to make, and I needed to know how make wise decisions and not rely on my own will anymore. I wanted to walk in God’s will.

One Sunday night, our pastor was talking about using your life to impact others’ lives for God. Towards the end of the service, I heard the Holy Spirit whisper to my heart, Why do you want to be an actress? Who are you going to help by pursuing a career in acting? Those questions were a part of a major turning point in the direction of my life. I was deeply convicted.

As I drove home, I poured out my heavy heart to Paul over the phone. I told him that I didn’t think I was supposed to move to LA at all to pursue a career in acting. “Praise God!” he said. He had been praying that God would speak to me about this because he never wanted to move to the west coast. He didn’t want to be the reason I made the decision to stay; he wanted me to hear it from the Lord instead. He wanted to raise our family in the church he grew up at and be close to our families. He was so blessed to know this dream would come true. Although I felt a weight lift from my chest, I was terrified because I had built my life upon what I had wanted and planned, not what God had planned for me. I had a plan, and it was all laid out. Now everything was completely unknown to me. God had already established my steps before the foundation of the world. This was my first attempt at walking in them and surrendering my will. I believe this was the moment I decided to stop living my life on shifting sand and plant my feet firmly on solid ground because I was trusting in God’s word and not my own understanding.

The next morning, I went to work and tried to wrap my mind around what I had just decided for my future. It didn’t make sense, but I knew it was right. Trusting God will never make sense to our human minds, but that’s because God’s thoughts and ways are not our thoughts or our ways. God’s thoughts and ways are higher than ours (Isaiah 55:8-9). During nap-time, I sat down to journal my thoughts. Suddenly, my mom called me and told me that there was a family emergency and that it involved my dad. She did not discuss any details, but told me that I needed to come home from work immediately. I called the father of the boy I cared for and explained to him I needed to go home as soon as possible, even though I had no idea what had happened to my dad. A part of me wondered if he had been in some kind of accident involving drinking and driving; it had happened before. I knew that I needed to stay calm and not let fear overtake me. I prayed the whole way home and asked God to give me His peace.

I rushed home, and looked for anyone from my family, but no one was around. I ran up to my room trying to figure out who to call. Worry and fear gripped my heart, as thoughts of what actually happened circled my mind. I immediately started to have a panic attack and fell to the floor crying and hyperventilating. Within a few minutes, my aunt, step-dad, and Paul were surrounding me trying to calm me down. I wanted to know where my mom was and why she wasn’t there. “What is going on,” I cried out. My aunt then uttered the words, “Honey, your dad has been killed. Someone shot him in the head and killed him. His body was dragged across the street to an abandoned building and the building was set on fire. They identified his body this morning by the metal plate in his pelvis.” My mind couldn’t comprehend what I had just heard. The phone conversation he and I had just a couple weeks prior to this ended in him hanging up on me. I never got to say good-bye or tell him that I loved him. I immediately went into shock and couldn’t stop shaking or crying.

My mom was at the police station with my brother, my grandma and aunt (my dad’s mom and sister) identifying his wallet and other belongings the police had found at the scene of the crime. This couldn’t be happening. This isn’t real. This sounded like something out of a movie or a forensic science TV show, not my life. There isn’t much I remember about that day, except being surrounded by my loving boyfriend, family, and my old pastor and church family from high school. God’s love held me and carried me through it all, I know. Because of God’s amazing grace, I was able to plan my dad’s funeral and endure the days following.

I was never very close to my dad’s side of the family because of the divorce between my mom and dad, but during this time, we needed to be. Many of his siblings had no idea the kind of lifestyle he was living and wondered how I was able to handle my grief. I gave them two reasons: the man that died was not my father (a bit dramatic and extreme, yes, but the devil had truly deceived him and had overtaken his soul) and of course, the strongest reason I could endure this dark time in my life was because of my faith in Jesus Christ. At the funeral service, which was held in the church I grew up in, I read one of my dad’s favorite poems, “Footprints in the Sand” and declared from the pulpit that Jesus is the only One who could carry us through this tragedy. And He did.

Thanksgiving that year held a different meaning to me as I realized how thankful I was for my life, even though I had suffered and struggled greatly through it. Through the tragic event of my dad’s death, I saw how fragile life was. God’s mighty love shined through all of that darkness and reminded me that He would never leave me nor forsake me, and He would give me strength to overcome any obstacle or tragedy, such as the murder of my dad. The devil tried all he could to knock me down and take me out, but there I was, standing on Christ, my solid Rock.

The family I was working for fired me, after they discovered my blog with pictures of their kids when we were at the park. I didn’t mean to exploit their kids; I just thought they were cute and wanted to write about them. I think they searched for a story on my dad once they knew what happened, discovered my blog, and were afraid for their children’s lives because I had the same last name as my dad. I thought firing me over a blog post was kind of harsh, but I didn’t hold it against them. The devil truly was trying to shake me. But like I said, I was standing on the Rock and could not be moved by the enemy’s tactics. The Lord gave me a firm place to stand and I was trusting in His promises. He was faithful and would not disappoint.

Step 3:

The Water and the Wheel

Chapter 7: Molding My Heart

“But now, O Lord, you are our Father;

we are the clay, and you are our potter;

we are all the work of your hand.”

Isaiah 64:8 (ESV)

Unemployment turned out to be a tremendous blessing because I had no idea I would have so many responsibilities as the main beneficiary to my dad’s estate, although he didn’t have much of one. My brother and I hired an attorney at the advice of my step-dad and proceeded to heed his legal instruction. He told us that we did not have to pay a dime for the funeral costs because my father was murdered, and we were eligible for a grant from the government through their Victim’s Compensation Act. He regretted to inform us, however, that the application/approval process would take years to complete (more on that later).

I spent a majority of my time during the day visiting with the lawyer and digging for important paperwork at my dad’s vacant house, which usually turned into an emotional endeavor. Every one of my dad’s bill collectors were now calling me, and many of them did not care whatsoever of my circumstances- they just wanted payment. My mom took most of the phone-calls off of my shoulders, pretending to be me, because it was becoming a little too much for my twenty-two-year-old self to handle. At this point in my life, I wanted to be holding a marriage certificate in my hands, not a death certificate for life insurance companies.

My first Christmas with Paul was absolutely perfect. He had bought me a new digital camera and my first adult Bible. He highlighted First Corinthians 13:13, “These three remain: faith, hope, and love. And the greatest of these is love” and bookmarked the page for me to remind me of what was most important during this time. I got to meet more of his family, and I seemed to fit right in. My heart was full. Later Christmas evening, we went over to my side of the family to have dinner and open more gifts. As I made my way to my grandpa’s, where I was still living, Paul told me that he had one more present for me. “It’s just something small. Just a little extra for you,” he said with a big grin. My heart raced as I wondered if this gift was shiny and sparkly, as well as small.

As we made our way up to my room, he asked me to play “our song” on the computer because he hadn’t heard it in a while-added a little bit to the mood, I’m sure. I sat down on the edge of the bed, and he handed me a small, square gift-box. I opened up the box, and there was a small, black, velvet bag underneath the lime-green tissue paper. As I drew the string on the bag, he dropped to one knee, began to pour out his heart of the love he had for me, and asked me the question I had waited my entire life to hear:

“Emily, will you marry me?”

Just like the dork that I am, I responded “yeth,” with a goofy lisp, and the happy tears began to flow. My prince charming had come to sweep me off of my feet. The moment that I had imagined a thousand times or more was actually happening; I was embarking on the journey of marrying who God had chosen for me long before time began. We had finally found each other. We were both so giddy and started to call our friends and family to tell them the amazing news. Within one year, I would be Mrs. Emily Rose Massey. I was so ready!

Wedding planning helped me escape the heaviness of dealing with my dad’s estate and kept my mind off of it for a little while. Since I was still unemployed, I had plenty of extra time to day-dream about our special day. It didn’t take me long to lay out all of the details and begin my check-list; this wasn’t something I wanted to procrastinate on whatsoever. Paul and I were going to have to take care of a lot of the expenses ourselves, but as the months went on, God would bless us tremendously and take much of the burden off of our shoulders (like increased income and my grandpa winning the lottery, as just a start). I started working as a nanny one day a week for the family I had been working for before I lost my previous nanny job, which helped with saving up gas money, but that was about it.

Thankfully, I did not have that many bills to take care of, but I did have to put my student loan payments in deferment until I could secure a full-time position, and my cell phone was turned off a time or two. Money was definitely tight, but I was learning to trust God as my provider, and He always provided. I would wake up every morning and declare in faith, “I thank You God that the right job is on the way!” Now that I had a brand new Bible, that wasn’t a teen Bible, I started digesting the Word more than ever before and because of that, my faith was strengthening just as the Word promises us in Romans 10:17. Paul bought me a new journal, so I could spend time reflecting and documenting the wedding planning process. Even early on, he knew me so well.

The financial strain began to strain me, and I was truly trying not to give into fear and allow anxiety to overtake me. It was a struggle, as I was still learning how to cast my cares upon the Lord. I had a few panic attacks in front of Paul, and he would always take authority over the fear by praying over me. I never imagined marrying such a godly man like him; he was such an amazing example of Jesus to me and my entire family.

He had been serving in the youth band at church for several years playing bass, and I decided to join him and audition as a singer. This would start the routine of being at church at least five days a week, since there were now two youth groups that met on different nights at each campus. We were busy, but that was what I was always accustomed to, and actually thrived in that kind of lifestyle. It was starting to weigh on Paul though because we didn’t have much time for each other outside of church activities.

When we finally found time for each other, we couldn’t wait to be alone, and since I was still learning how to walk in purity and righteousness after so many years of rebellion and promiscuity, we struggled with temptation and pushed the boundaries of our abstinence. Hormones raged and the love for each other only increased, so it became very difficult for us to choose purity, although we knew it was what God wanted us to choose for our own benefit. We managed to abstain from sex, but the Lord had a lot of work on me to do. A pattern of behavior and strongholds were formed in my life regarding my sexuality. I knew I could not have victory over this behavior in my own strength. Paul and I would repent and try our best to keep walking it out.

Thankfully, more opportunities to grow in Christ presented themselves, and God would continue His work on my heart. Shortly after the New Year, Paul had saved up enough money for the both of us to travel to Florida with the teens and youth group leaders from church for a conference and some beach time. He had never been to the ocean, and I was very excited to share that experience with him. While Paul experienced the beach and ocean for the first time, I experienced the power of God for the first time at the youth conference.

I had never in my entire life felt the tangible presence of God like I did that week. It was so mighty that my knees buckled, and I collapsed on the floor. I also received my heavenly language after being baptized in the Holy Spirit. Paul and I prayed together in tongues for the first time. It was so powerful. I also received more healing regarding the death of my father, as the love of my Heavenly Father began to overwhelm my heart. I surrendered more and more of my pain to Jesus that week, and I know the Lord ignited a fire in my heart like never before. I came back marked, and as the months went on, I began to see my calling to use my gifts for the Kingdom and God’s glory, instead of for the world and my own glory.

The Holy Spirit was changing me from the inside out, and I was letting Him. There were many times when the desire would rise up to step back into the theatre world, and Paul and I would undoubtedly have an argument regarding it. He didn’t want to risk losing me to that lifestyle because he had seen how far I had come in just a few short months separated from it and pursuing God instead. God had removed so many jagged rocks and trash from the clay of my heart and was now beginning to mold me into His vessel. The shaping and reforming of Emily wasn’t easy and it hurt. I felt like I was constantly reintroducing myself to myself, but I know enduring the transformation was totally worth it.

The water of the Word softened me, and as I trusted in it, the Potter was able to form my heart and life because I surrendered to His hands and to the process. All the old was passing away, and I was being made new in Christ in this refreshing season of my life. The Lord would continue to flood it with more new experiences that stretched me even more. I started receiving phone calls for job interviews, and it was just the matter of time before God opened up a door for the position He had planned for me. A friend of my mom’s was looking for an assistant in his medical office, something completely foreign to me. I was offered the job immediately following my interview. I had believed for a full-time job for over 8 months, and it came to pass just when God timed it. I was nervous about the new terminology and atmosphere, but I also believed I could do all things through Christ who gave me strength. That verse would keep me grounded in more ways than I could ever have imagined.

As I watched the old fade away and the new come to life, I truly felt like my world was spinning, but I was comforted in knowing the Potter’s hands were gently holding me as he started the wheel. My new job definitely brought challenges, but they would aid the Potter in cutting away all the excess that He no longer needed in my heart. I would learn patience and about keeping an unoffended spirit, as I dealt with unfriendly and hurting (both physically and emotionally) patients on a daily basis. I had good days and bad days, but I was growing. I knew I was called to be a light in the world, and that is what I wanted to be known for at that office, no matter how many tears would be shed from hurtful words spoken to me from the patients. God rewarded my diligence and within two months of starting in that little medical office, I received a promotion and a raise.

Now that I had steady income, I began to worship the Lord through tithing and giving an offering consistently. My praise in giving followed in song, once I was asked to join the main worship team at church. I was honored because the worship leader didn’t even request an audition. She had heard great things about me already and couldn’t wait to use me. I sang background vocals for close to a year before I ever lead out on my own, but during that time, I learned so much from the other worship leaders about the heart of worship. It wasn’t about singing or performance or stage presence, although those things are important factors; it truly was about emptying yourself out for the Lord to flow through you and use you as His instrument, as His vessel. All that was within me longed to be used by God in that way.

My feet hadn’t left the stage, but I was beginning to see what the enemy had tried to keep me from this whole time. For so long, he diverted my focus to use my gifts to entertain and perform and desire the spotlight for myself. My gifts were not meant to be used for my own gain or bring attention to myself, but they were meant to bring glory to Jesus and point others to Him, by allowing Him to shine through me. It was Jesus who belonged in the spotlight. It was now becoming clear to me that I was not only born to worship God, but I was born to lead His people into worshipping Him. He was putting a new song in my mouth to sing to Him and for Him alone. As time went on, I would discover how to fully receive that song and release my sound in the earth all for His glory, all for His purpose.

Step 4:

Drying and the Kiln

Chapter 8:

Receiving My New Song

“He has put a new song in my mouth.”

Psalm 40:3a (NKJV)

Paul and I counted down the days until our big day, and before we knew it, December 5th was finally here. Wherever we could, in the events of the day, we reminded our guests of what our marriage would be built upon-Christ. We placed scripture on the tables at the reception hall, and I sang a special song to Paul that told of how God orchestrated our love for each other. We stood in front of all of our friends and family and made a covenant between ourselves and God that day. I believe with all of my heart that the chains of lust and sexual perversion fell to the ground after we made that holy covenant and vowed that our marriage would be an example of how Christ loves the Church. The Lord would still continue to work on me, but our wedding day was a huge victory over the enemy regarding our sexuality and purity in marriage. I was able to stand before Paul as a pure virgin, not because of anything I could have done, but because of the Blood of Jesus washing me clean and making me new.

We took a week off of work for our honeymoon to Chicago. It sleeted and snowed the entire time we were there, but we enjoyed the time off together making precious memories. By the time we came back home, he was on the road again for work. We would not see each other much during our first year of marriage, but that year, God blessed us financially in major ways through Paul’s job, and we would give back to Him with just as much intensity.

I was still fighting for approval for the Victim’s Compensation Act to pay off my dad’s funeral costs, which were a year overdue (thankfully, the funeral home was understanding and patient with us), as well as trying to get my brother and I’s names off of my dad’s mortgage so the collection agency would stop threatening and hassling us.  I was looking forward to the day all of that would be behind us, but just kept believing God would give me wisdom as how to handle the difficult situation. He guided me with peace and carried my burdens, as long as I allowed Him to. That kind of surrender and trust just kept getting easier and easier the longer I walked with the Lord.

Paul and I continued to serve at the church: in the television department, on the worship team and drama ministry and also in the children's ministry. We had stepped down from the youth band because it was starting to become too much for us, and we felt spread too thin. Even though we had one less ministry on our shoulders, we were still very active at the church almost every day of the week. After over a year and a half of that kind of routine and now working full-time on top of that, I could sense that we were starting to go through the motions regarding our walk with the Lord. I wasn't reading much of the Word and my prayer life had suffered greatly. I wasn't maturing. Church started to somewhat feel like another job. Paul didn't even want to sit in the services anymore and stayed in the TV room, even when he wasn't serving.

I remember sitting in our Sunday evening service, after I had just sang Saturday night and four times that morning traveling between both of our campuses (we had six weekend services total) and couldn't receive anything our pastor (who now traveled around the nation to preach and was hardly there anymore) was teaching on. I felt like I had heard it all. I wasn't learning anymore. I wasn't growing. I had plateaued. Around the time I started to realize that I felt that way, Paul and I sat in service together for the first time in a few months and couldn't believe our eyes, as we watched the video announcements advertising the upcoming series. It had absolutely nothing to do with Jesus, the Word, or the Kingdom. Pop icons, clips from movies, and songs from the 80’s flashed across the screen- an entire series highlighting a decade and the world's view on that decade at that, at church.

Something just didn't sit well with us after watching that video. Within a few days, I received an email from our worship leader asking us to keep our eyes and ears open for 80’s songs that we could incorporate into worship. We had already been performing secular songs in worship at conferences and special services, but I never agreed with it. Not that I wanted to be legalistic, but there is something sacred about worshipping the Lord, and I don't believe secular music has any place in it. Worship through music was never meant to be entertainment or performance-based and that is what it had turned into; it was more like a concert than a worship service.

Paul had started questioning if he and I were supposed to stay there and began seeking God, asking for guidance and wisdom. He shared his heart with his dad about how we were feeling about the direction the church was taking. His dad had left the church (he had been there when the walls went up) shortly after we got married because he did not agree with where it was headed either, while Paul's mom continued to attend service with us. It was nothing like how it started out as and was beginning to stray from the Word of God, especially concerning the gifts of the Spirit. Paul and his dad talked on the phone for over two hours and when they ended the conversation, Paul looked at me and told me that he had made a decision. The next service, which was in two days, would be our last time attending our church-the very same church where he spent his entire life growing up in God, where he met his bride, and where he desired to raise his children someday.

So we served in our positions just like we had many times before, and were a little disappointed that our pastor wasn't even there for our last service. We watched his sermon in a pre-recorded message on the big screen; it felt like we just went to church at the movie theater. It was kind of sad, but it definitely confirmed our decision to move on. After the service ended, Paul sat down with the director of the TV ministry who had watched him grow up and who had probably changed his diapers when he was a baby and explained to her that he would no longer be able to serve in the ministry he was a part of since age seven. The Lord had made it very clear to us that we needed to leave and close this chapter of our lives.

We weren't sure where He was calling us to go, but trusted that He would lead us and light the way. She wiped her tears and gave us both huge hugs and told us that she better hear from us when we started having babies. I had a harder time finding the right words to say to the worship team, so I emailed them all and shared my heart in writing, which was always my better means of communication. Some were confused, some were understanding, and some just never responded to me and stopped communication with me altogether (Christians have our flaws). Leaving that ministry was difficult for me because the worship team was my family, and I was beginning to sense a strong desire to lead worship and leave acting behind, but I knew God had bigger plans. I trusted my husband was leading us in the right direction.

The following Sunday, we decided to attend church with Paul’s dad where he had been attending since leaving our church. The sermon was an on-time word from the Lord, and I knew this would be a season of healing for us both. After service, we ran into some friends of ours who also left our church a few months before we did. They were the youth pastors at one of the campuses and had left to pioneer their own ministry. We were told to disconnect from them because they were operating in rebellion, so at the time, we obeyed. Now that we were no longer under the same leadership, we allowed the Lord to use this meeting to rekindle our friendship with them, as they shared their side of the story. Just like us, they longed to see a generation on fire for Christ and wanted us to join their team. We were happy to reconnect with them, but knew we needed a break from ministry, so we didn’t dive in right away.

This transition and new season would take us awhile to get used to, but we believed with our entire hearts that the Holy Spirit was guiding our every step and wouldn’t leave us. The biggest change for us was the fact that we only attended church one day at week. At first, we weren’t sure what to do with all of our extra time, so we actually started reading the Bible during our down time. I have to admit, it had been a very long time since I sat down to read the Bible because I wanted to. Like Martha in the Bible, we were so caught up in working for the Lord, we had forgotten to just be with Him and sit at His feet like Mary did. I started reading in the Book of Acts and the Word seemed to come alive to me like never before! Our walk with the Lord began to experience a fresh wind of the Spirit that revived our souls.

On my way to work, I began listening to teachings on a local Christian AM radio station. Hunger was stirring in me once again, and I couldn’t get enough of the Word. After my lunch break one day, I got stuck in some construction. Suddenly, I heard a commercial spot advertising a prophet who was ministering nearby that Paul had just talked to me about a week before because he had been watching videos of him on the internet. When we were attending our previous church, we never had time to visit other ministries and actually receive instead of pour out.

We made plans to attend the weekend meetings and on the first night, we received a Word from the Lord regarding our financial situation. We were standing and believing that the money for my dad’s funeral costs, which were now almost two years past due, would be released and the approval process would finally be completed. The prophet said there were several people in the congregation that desperately needed finances to be released. He also declared that if we sowed a particular seed in faith, we would receive the money within 30 days. We knew that this prophecy was for us, so we sowed our seed and stood on God’s promises and believed He would bring this word to pass.

On the second night, we actually ran into the youth pastors from our old church there as well. Afterwards, we went out to dinner with them and a few other familiar faces, friends that Paul grew up with at the church, and were able to reconnect even more and hear about what God had been doing in their lives over the last several months. They had been praying for us and believed we were supposed to link arms with them. Paul was hesitant with committing to more than we should at that point, but agreed to help them prepare their new building before their first meeting. We spent our evenings during the week painting and praying with them, as they believed for souls to be ignited with a fiery passion for Jesus and the Kingdom.

Just being around them, stirred something up in me. I would wake up and worship songs would spring up from my heart. I was hearing from the Lord so clearly. I continued in the Word and began journaling all that God was placing on my heart. My prayer life also found a new passion and fire. I was going deeper into the things of God. A part of me started to miss leading worship and ministering. I had been asked to pray about becoming the worship leader at our friends’ ministry. Again, Paul was very hesitant, but I explained to him how I believed the Lord was calling me to step into the position as a worship leader. Although I had only led a band a couple of times, I just knew that I possessed this gifting. A week before the first meeting, I practiced with the musicians, and I created my very first set list. From that point on, I received a grace from heaven to be a vessel for the Lord to flow through in song and prayer. Before every service, all the leaders in the ministry would stand in a circle and pray. This simple prayer sprang up out of my heart every time: “Empty me of myself and fill me up with You, God. I am Your vessel. Flow through me.”

I had no idea that is who I was called to be-God’s vessel. He had been molding me and preparing me for this moment, for this ministry. Although I still had so much more transformation ahead of me, I had come so far over the last two years. God would continue to take me further, as my roots went deeper in Him. He blessed us time and time again to remind us of His faithfulness. Within 26 days after we sowed our big seed, we received a letter in the mail stating that my application for the Victim’s Compensation Act had been approved, and they would be sending a check to the funeral home within the week. God was definitely moving in our lives, but so was the devil.

The enemy tried to bring my past sin and behavior to the surface to remind me how I wasn’t worthy to operate in ministry and tell me that I wasn’t changing. Desires for theatre, acting, parties, and drinking would spring up out of nowhere and would result in arguments between Paul and I. I was having trouble sleeping and having horribly vivid dreams about people from my past. It was starting to wear on me mentally and emotionally. I tried to counter-act the attacks from the enemy with reading more of the Word, starting the journey of devouring the entire Bible within a year.

That winter I was released from my past in a mighty way and would no longer be tormented in my mind. At a youth conference in Tennessee with our ministry group, the Lord revealed to me that the reason I was still having nightmares and trouble sleeping was because there was a box of photos under my bed from my past as different characters I played and from old, unhealthy relationships. He told me that if I wanted freedom, I needed to throw the photos away as well as my journals of when I was in an adulteress relationship. “I never liked that part of your story because I didn’t write it,” I heard Him speak to my heart. When I got back from that conference, I did as the Lord spoke, was completely set free, and seriously never again had horrible dreams about my past. As I began to realize that I needed to let go of all of those memories because they didn’t represent who God had created me to be, I experienced great freedom to become who God had planned for me to be before the world began-His vessel of honor.

Chapter 9: Praise to Our God

“Praise the Lord!

For it is good to sing praises to our God;

for it is pleasant,  and a song of praise is fitting.”

Psalm 147:1 (ESV)

After a few months, Paul and I decided that his parents’ new church wasn’t the right fit for us, so we decided to look around for a different one with the rest of our ministry friends. Meanwhile, we still tithed at our ministry and sowed whenever we were given the opportunity. Because some of our friends from our old church had stopped speaking to us, I decided to disconnect from social media altogether and spent time seeking the Lord in an even greater way. Paul and I threw away any kind of DVD or CD that we thought was inappropriate and stopped watching TV. Although we didn’t see it just yet, we had started walking on a legalistic path. We wanted to be radical Christians, but we were in serious danger of self-righteousness. We continued pursuing the Lord with all our might by reading our Bible, praying, and fasting.

I would wake up before the sun and seek the Lord’s face every single morning. My journal was full of words and direction from the Lord, as well as prophetic songs He would speak to my heart. My private ministry began to unfold on the public platform. Our ministry had services on Friday nights and Sunday nights, but also started traveling to various churches in the area to lead worship and bring the Word. Paul and I loved to pray for people, and both of us would receive words of knowledge as we prayed for them. Our worship services would sometimes last up to two hours. We were hungry for God’s presence. The ministry was still pretty small, but the group that attended ran hard after God week after week. We started to meet during the week to pray corporately and study the Bible as well.

At work, I longed to be in ministry instead, but began to discover opportunities to shine Christ’s light. I started praying for my co-workers and sharing the love of Jesus with the patients. My boldness would increase as the months went on. Paul was having a difficult time at his job though. It started to become extremely slow again and the financial pressure was beginning to overwhelm him. When he was working, he would come home stressed to the point of literally becoming sick to his stomach. It all came to a head one night when he completely collapsed in my arms in a panic attack. We decided that he needed to look for another job. The stress was so much that he didn’t even want to put in his two weeks’ notice, so we trusted God would make a way. We immediately made some financial decisions to help ease the pressure by selling Paul’s sports-car and changing car insurances. Within two weeks after he left the company he had worked for since he was fifteen, he had two job interviews. He accepted a position as a sales associate at a department store in the mall by our apartment, and I would have to endure not seeing much of my husband for another year of our marriage.

All of this extra alone time for me resulted in a stronger prayer life and more worship songs penned. God also opened a door at our ministry for me to teach for the first time. I spoke on our lives on the Potter’s wheel and shared with our small congregation the molding process I had endured over the last couple of years. As I studied for my message, my eyes were opened to a side of God that I had never fully grasped, the Father. Since my relationships with my dad and step-dad always struggled, I did not have a great understanding of what it meant to be a daughter of the Most High God. I wanted to know why Jesus cried out “Abba Father” or what it felt like to call God “Daddy” and mean it. I began to embark on that journey and as each day passed, the Lord would reveal His love to me, strengthen me, and solidify all the work He had done in my heart thus far.

Paul and I still searched for our church home, but we were constantly disappointed. We were so hungry for the meat of the Word and all we could find were churches feeding the congregation milk. No church we visited or even tried for a few months, felt like home. Many Sundays went by without us attending church at all. We would listen to teaching online and read our Word, but there definitely felt like something was missing in our lives. We continued serving in our ministry, but it wasn’t growing and we weren’t doing any kind of outreach. As the months went by, it started to feel so inward focused. Handing out sandwiches on the street would have been a better use of our time for the sake of the Kingdom. The routine of service after service just seemed to become so monotonous, and we began to question if what we had been doing for the last year of our lives was making a difference at all. We contemplated stepping down and getting planted in our current church that we somewhat liked, but after we attended a conference with the team, we felt pressured into staying and sticking it out for the sake of our leaders. Along with that pressure, I battled with condemnation and guilt if I didn’t pray long enough or if missed my Bible reading or if I didn’t fast frequently enough.

We continued to worship God with all of our hearts and pray for those who came to our small building on the weekends, one being Paul’s brother who was struggling in his walk. God was restoring him through the ministry and gave him a fresh fire and passion for life once again. I kept writing even more worship songs in the secret place and in corporate worship. The Lord also brought a young woman into my life who I poured into for a few months, and through her new life in Christ, I saw the raw truth in the gospel once again.

Financially, Paul and I were still struggling greatly. The Bible says “little foxes spoil the vine,” and our little foxes were credit card transactions that piled up over time. God started to put it on our hearts that we needed to learn how to be better stewards of the money He blessed us with. Although we gave to the Kingdom continually, our finances were in complete disarray. Little by little, we had managed to get ourselves into about $15,000 worth of credit card debt. We didn’t know how we were going to get ourselves out of the hole we had managed to dig.

I woke up one morning and heard the Lord say, “You need to sell your car.” My car was completely paid off. I had never had a car payment on any of the cars I drove and didn’t want that extra burden. Logically, it didn’t make any sense to sell a paid off car to then have to take out a loan to purchase another car, but God isn’t logical. He just wants us to believe and trust Him. Within a couple weeks, I sold my car back to the same dealership that I had purchased it from and had a check in my hands for $9,500. This was our first step towards debt freedom. Paul started working an additional job part-time to aid in attacking the credit card bondage. It was difficult sometimes only having one day a week with him and seeing him before I fell asleep, but I knew God needed us to focus on financial freedom and become disciplined. Paul’s sales were soaring higher and higher every month and would receive bonus after bonus. He was one of their top salesmen and God was rewarding us through his hard-work and diligence. The debt was becoming smaller and smaller as each month passed.

Meanwhile, as we were attacking our credit card debt, the devil began attacking my family once again. For several months, my mom and step-dad were having issues in their marriage after she discovered he had been talking to an ex-girlfriend. There was much strife in the home, and he had threatened to kill himself several times. He went home to visit his family alone and didn’t come back for a couple months. During that time, my mom started attending church with my little sister again after being away for a few years. I had been praying that they would find a church home for months and was so happy to see God answer my prayer.  She also had a powerful encounter with God for the first time during a special worship service that she attended with me. While my mom was coming back to the Lord, my step-dad was sleeping with his ex-girlfriend. He came back home and he and my mom tried to work things out, but it was too late. He left my mom and sister once again and moved back home to New England and never returned.  I was going through the fire, but the Lord was the fourth man standing next to me, keeping me, and protecting me. Although there was so much pain stirring in my heart, I learned to praise God in this storm because He is worthy.

Step 5:

Glaze and the Kiln

Chapter 10: Fear of the Lord

“In the fear of the Lord there is strong confidence,

And His children will have a place of refuge.”

Proverbs 14:26 (NKJV)

The Lord started to tug on my heart regarding forgiving my step-dad. I began to pray for him and eventually reached out to him to catch up. As he and I’s relationship was strengthening, my mom and I’s relationship was starting to slowly crumble because she had started dating a man at her church, and I did not approve whatsoever because she wasn’t divorced yet. He was living with her and my little sister would call me upset constantly. My self-righteousness became very evident when I was faced with this situation. I got into a screaming match with her over the phone and told her that God couldn’t hear her prayers because of her adulteress relationship. I should have known that the word “hypocrite” would have come out of her mouth next, as she threw my past affair back in my face, which she had every right to say. All of this happened after I had been fasting an entire week before I left for a national 24 hour prayer gathering with our ministry. I thought I was in the right. I didn’t see anything wrong with what I told her, but in all actuality, we were both blinded by sin and severely deceived.

For the next couple of months, I somewhat went through the motions with ministry and cried out to God for help. Work became a burden as my personal life was getting in the way, and I was having a difficult time leaving all of the baggage at the door. I would cry all the way home and out of my pain and desperation, songs of worship were born. The Lord was glazing the dark areas of my heart with His Spirit and light, pushing me to pray for my mom instead of fight with her. It wasn’t easy, but I continued in prayer and in the Word. The light of the Word shined bright to reveal areas of my life that I had held back from the Lord. I had been finding my identity in what I did and what I was good at for so long and not in who I was, a daughter of the most High God as well as a wife to an amazing man of God.

Suddenly, I wanted God more than all of the answers regarding what was happening around me- all I wanted was His presence. I could feel the Lord shifting things and moving in my life in a mighty way. Around that time, Paul had suggested we visit a friend’s church that we had been contemplating checking out. We hadn’t attended church in a few months and allowed discouragement to settle in. I was excited that he was ready to start looking for our church home again. We both knew how important it was to get planted in a church and surround ourselves with a church family to hold us accountable, and help us grow even more in our Christian walk. Paul wasn’t able to go with me to the first service because he was scheduled to work, but urged me to still go.

From the first time I stepped foot on the grounds of that church, I felt the love of Jesus oozing from the people there. The Word brought forth was on the love of God and loving people despite their faults. As the truth was being declared, the walls that I had built up began to fall down. It was not by accident the series that was being taught during our first month there was on love. God was piercing our hearts with the harsh truth that we needed to get back to the basics and focus on our love walk.

Within our first month at our new church, we grew in so many ways. We had been missing solid teaching for several months from our Christian diet and realized very quickly that it was now time to separate ourselves from the ministry we had spent a year and half at, although we had formed such solid friendships there. This was another transition that would be difficult, as some of the leaders didn’t understand why we were leaving. The ministry had taken a direction that we didn’t feel called to any longer and knew our time there was finished. There was tension as we made the quick decision, but the Lord would bring healing as time passed.

The church went through a transition as well regarding leadership, but we remained planted and faithful to the house and to the pastors. Paul and I were asked to lead a prayer gathering just a few months after we started attending. Our gifts were being called upon once again. Paul and I were asked to join the worship team, and I was being asked to help with intercessory prayer. Although we had been used to serving in a local body, and saw the dangers in over-committing ourselves, there was something different about this ministry and group of people. They weren’t doing it to build their own kingdom or to satisfy their Christian duties to make them feel like a radical, super-Christian; they did it all out of an overflow of love for God and building the Kingdom. Their love was contagious and began to transform our hearts and relationships, especially my relationship with my mom.

Since Paul was still hard at work with those two jobs, I had more time to build new friendships at church. I had always struggled with keeping solid friendships with girls, but this group of girls at our new church was so genuine and real and made forming relationships with them easy. We made such great memories going to the lake, shopping, and holding weekly Bible studies over a cup of coffee. They brought out a passion for teaching in me, and I began to realize they weren’t just my friends, but the Lord had placed them in my life to disciple them. They pushed me to seek the Lord and because they could see such wisdom in me, I didn’t want to disappoint. I was hungry to learn more and grow because they were hungry. I started taking a weekly class on the book Song of Solomon in the Bible. Over the course of those ten weeks, my eyes were opened to another level of God. More worship songs were birthed out of a deeper intimacy with Jesus, as I saw Him as my Beloved and Bridegroom King. I found passion in the secret place, but a part of me was longing to lead worship at the level I had several months before. I missed being used more fully in music ministry, but just believed God needed me to press into the secret place instead.

Although I felt the refreshing winds blow over me in my walk with the Lord, I was struggling to find my purpose at work. After four years at the same office, I was feeling a strong stirring that it was time to move on. I had been feeling that for probably two years, but never made it past an interview and just trusted the Lord would eventually make a way. In the time being, I decided to allow the Lord to use me as His vessel there at that small medical office. I started asking the Lord to give me more opportunities to spread His love and hope. Every time I asked, He provided. I openly prayed with patients over the phone and in person. One day, as I told God how badly I wanted to go into full-time ministry, our next patient walked in and just so happened to be blind. “You want ministry? Here you go,” I heard Him say to me. I held her hands and began to pray, asking the Lord to strengthen her eyes and her body. I was receiving boldness from my Creator. Pouring myself out like that helped me endure the waiting while I believed God was making a way for a better job with better pay. I was going to trust Him no matter what.

Chapter 11: Trusting the Lord

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart,

And lean not on your own understanding;

In all your ways acknowledge Him,

And He shall direct your paths.”

Proverbs 3:5-6 (NKJV)

More opportunities presented themselves for me to lead worship at various prayer gatherings as well as at my church. I loved all of my new responsibilities in music ministry, but because Paul was always working, he felt discouraged and wondered when it would be his time to step into his true calling. Although he enjoyed playing bass, he believed there had to be more that the Lord was asking him to do for the Kingdom.

Just when the enemy attacked his mind and told him that he would never be used by God, our pastor spoke words of encouragement over Paul. He told him that he carried a lot of weight and that this season he was enduring was teaching him determination and discipline for his ministry ahead. Within a couple months after our pastor spoke those encouraging words over Paul, he then asked Paul if he would be interested in leading our college and career group at the church. Paul was blown away by this invitation. He had never spoke in front of a group or even held a microphone for that matter. He was a man of few words and most people would describe him as shy. It was becoming obvious that the enemy had tried to keep Paul in insecurity for too much of his life, and now God was asking him to trust Him at a completely different level than he had ever before.

Just a few short weeks later, Paul preached for the first time in front of the youth group and college and career group. The topic of his message was about walking in love. That was an area of our life that was definitely tested, and we had grown so much spiritually by studying the subject of love. A month after the first time he taught, our pastors and some other leaders from our church prayed over us in front of the entire congregation and commissioned us as the new leaders of our college and career group. We were being called to disciple and teach. We felt so blessed to have been entrusted with our little flock. He and I took turns teaching week after week, and our confidence continued to grow in that specific area of gifting that we didn’t even know we had. Although Paul was stepping back into ministry, he still continued to work both jobs, in addition to his involvement in church activities. The Lord blessed us even greater during that season. Within 15 months, He helped us get out of $15,000 worth of credit card debt.

Just a couple months after we made our final credit card payment, Paul made the decision to rearrange some things regarding his jobs. For the first time since we met, he worked a normal Monday-Friday day job. He was now home when I got home from work and we finally had our weekends together. We were entering a new season- the year of great grace and blessing from the Lord. God was getting ready to bless our socks off.

Since we were paying off our debt, and not saving though, money was starting to get tight with my job. I knew it was time for me to leave my company when I was supposed to sit down for my yearly performance review and was told by my boss that he was trying to find me money for a raise. The company wasn’t doing well at all, and they were letting people go left and right. I wasn’t in fear because I knew the God was my Provider, but I trusted the Lord was telling me that it was time for the seasons to change regarding my job.

I started applying at other offices that were looking for an administrative assistant. I frequently searched for open positions at a very influential ministry that had impacted my walk greatly over the years that I was utterly blessed to live near, and had actually applied there a few times, but nothing ever came of it. I had imagined how awesome it would be to work there one day, but it seemed too far-fetched, considering the kind of past I had lived. Also, it was very rare to find entry-level positions available or any position that my resume supported. That was the case until it was my time to switch jobs. I logged onto the website to discover they were searching for an administrative assistant in their Project Management Office. The pay was much higher than my current position and they also paid 100% full health insurance coverage for the employee and their entire family. As Paul and I began to think about starting a family within the next couple of years, this benefit was very appealing to us. I submitted my application and resume and eagerly awaited a response from their HR department.

A week had passed, and I still hadn’t heard anything. I called my pray-warrior mother-in-law to give her an update on the open position and before I hung up the phone, she told me that she had discovered a type of home loan that did not require a down-payment. Paul and I had been believing for a house ever since we got engaged, but because of our financial struggles, we were never able to save up enough money for a down-payment. We were eager to start our family and believed the Lord wanted to bless us with our own home someday. This news from my mother-in-law brought hope that this blessing may be coming to us sooner than we had thought.

Two weeks had gone by since I had applied for the ministry position, and I finally got a phone call requesting a phone interview. I was ecstatic! My phone interview went extremely well and within thirty minutes, I was asked to schedule a personal interview. That interview went absolutely fantastic. I was completely confident that the position was mine. Another week had passed, and I still hadn’t heard any news, but I trusted that the Lord wouldn’t take me this far to leave me stranded. Paul and I attended church the following Sunday, and a special guest had talked about radical giving in his message. We always believed in the power of sowing seeds in faith and receiving a harvest from the Lord because His Word said so.

The speaker asked the congregation if we trusted God enough to sow something very precious to us. We both looked at each other and knew that it was time to activate our faith and give radically like we never had before. We didn’t have much money to give, so we knew the Lord was asking what else was precious to us. Paul and I both clearly heard the Lord ask us to sow our wedding rings. We knew what our rings represented: our marriage, our family, and our future together. We took them off, slipped them into an offering envelope, and wrote what we believed God would do on behalf of our seed. On the outside of the envelope, I wrote “new job, a house, and abundance in our finances.” Two hours later, I received an email from the HR recruiter asking me to schedule my second interview. God moved quickly!

A week after my second interview, I was offered the position. I put in my two weeks’ notice at the office and eagerly awaited my first day at the ministry I had longed to work at for almost five years. In the meantime, Paul and I started looking at houses that qualified for the specific loan we were pre-approved for. We found a house within our range and fell in love, but we were bound to our apartment lease for another six months unless we paid their $1,000 fee. We didn’t have that kind of money and began to get discouraged because we knew that house would probably be off the market within six months.

We quickly handed the situation over to God and knew we needed to just trust Him. Just hours later, a couple from our church called us and said they would pay the fee so that we could be released from our lease. God’s abundant blessings were overwhelming us and they didn’t stop! On the second day at my new job, I got a text message from Paul that our offer was accepted on the house we believed was ours. We were scheduled to close and move within 30 days. Within one month, we received an answer to our prayer through our obedience in giving to the Lord.

The enemy was mad. The day before we closed on our house, a man fell asleep at the wheel and rear-ended me on the way to work. The damages were minimal, but were also enough to pay off what we owed on the car. The devil tried to take me out, but God used it to turn it all around for good, just like His Word says! The Lord blessed us with everything we needed for our house, and we lacked for nothing. Because of that radical seed that we sowed, we knew without a shadow of a doubt that the Lord was honoring our obedience and faith. We trusted Him and He proved Himself strong and true. To God be all the glory!

Step 6:

A Vessel Fit for the Master’s Use

Chapter 12:

A Yielded Vessel of Honor

“But in a great house there are not only vessels of gold and silver, but also of wood and clay, some for honor and some for dishonor. Therefore if anyone cleanses himself from the latter, he will be a vessel for honor, sanctified and useful for the Master, prepared for every good work.”

2 Timothy 2:20-21 (NKJV)

Through it all, I have learned to wait on God and trust in His plan, even if I don’t completely understand it, and even if it is uncomfortable. God has rearranged a lot in my heart and set my focus on becoming exactly who has created me to be- a yielded vessel for His glory. I have definitely wrestled with Him in regards to my calling in ministry, questioning which gifts He wanted me to use as His vessel to flow through. I have had to lay down my pride time and time again over the years, but I believe it is something we must do daily, just as Paul said in First Corinthians 15: “I die daily.” When I walked away from my acting career and began to see how God wanted to use my gifts, specifically in His house, I began my journey of being yielded to the Lord.

Although the Lord blessed me with talents, I had to lay them down at His feet and surrender them over for His will to be done, not mine. Just as Abraham offered Isaac to be sacrificed, I offered my gifts and my life up to God and He blessed it and gave it all right back to me just as He gave Isaac back to Abraham to be used for His ultimate plan.

Through this act of complete trust and surrender, I have learned how to wait on the Lord. I’d much rather be walking in God’s will by using my gifts when and how He wanted me to use them, instead of trying to take control of them. It is one thing to be a vessel for the Lord, but it is a completely different act of worship when you are yielded unto Him. I have tried in my own abilities to open doors of opportunities, but never prevailed. Sometimes we can only learn the art of yielding when doors remain closed until God decides it is time to open them. It may be God’s will, but it just may not be His timing.

Through these closed doors, I have gained tremendous understanding of how God uses seasons in our lives. In the natural, seasons change so that a variety of plants, trees, and flowers can grow at their appointed time. Regarding my life, I can’t expect every season and assignment to be the same. If it all stayed the same, I would never grow to the potential God has set in place for my life.

I trust in God’s plan, even if I can’t see it with my eyes. I walk by faith and not by sight. I know God’s ways are higher than mine. I yield my heart, mind, and soul to them. I trust that the Lord is using me as His vessel as a servant leader, worship leader, an encourager of faith, and as a teacher of His Word-which I’m still amazed that He would use someone like me who disregarded His Word for so much of my life. I feel like the Apostle Paul when he said in First Corinthians 15 that he “was not worthy to be called an apostle.” But then goes on to say, “But by the grace of God I am what I am…” By God’s grace, I am becoming who He has created me to be. He has anointed me to minister alongside my husband. The Lord has transitioned Paul and I into youth ministry and has called us to be a mother and a father to this generation, both spiritually and naturally. Using your life to touch another life for Jesus and for His Kingdom has so many rewards, and we won’t experience some of them until we get to heaven.

As we disciple and become spiritual parents to young people every week, Paul and I long for the day when we can do the same for our own children. The Lord has decreed that it is time to grow our family, and we have many people praying for us, as we prepare for this next step in our lives. Yet, as I write this, our hearts are heavy, as we just said good-bye to our unborn child who the Lord took to heaven at just six weeks along in my pregnancy. God has held us through this time of great sorrow and has not stopped reminding us of His unending promises- my desk calendar displayed Philippians 4:13, my life verse, the day I received the news that we had lost our baby. We believe that Father God will bless us once again with another baby in His perfect timing. We know that our child is called for great Kingdom exploits for such a time as this, and we will continue to yield ourselves to His timing and will.

As I mourn the loss of our little one, I see God’s ultimate purpose, as I am given another opportunity to give glory to His name. I have been able to witness to the doctor, nurses, my family, my friends, and co-workers as they’ve watched me endure this difficult time. My faith in Jesus Christ has always gotten me through life’s struggles, and this time in my life is no different. I know that I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. He is strong when I am weak and will always be my Rock.

When my husband and I received the news that our precious baby no longer had a heart-beat, I cried out to God and thanked Him for His faithfulness and goodness. Suddenly, a song came to my heart:

Lord, take my life/ display it for the world to see/ so that my King can receive His glory/because my life is hidden in Christ and it’s Him who gives me strength to rise above the storm/ because my life is a living sacrifice/ so that He can shine and draw all men to Him

That is my life song. I want the Lord to use my life for His glory. All of the pain, joy, struggles, and victories that I have endured and experienced are all on display for my King’s glory, so that the world may see how they do not have to walk through this life alone and that there is hope. Our Heavenly Father will never abandon us. His love never fails us, and He will always give us the strength to rise above the storms that we may face. I long to live my life to give honor to the One who created me and the One who holds my life in His hands. I long to be used as His vessel to edify the Body, reached the lost, and worship Him with all that I am. Through total surrender, God has restored my soul and strengthened me completely. I have not suffered from a panic attack in many years, and I do not give into fear. Depression and anxiety have no place in my life any longer. I choose to walk in love and forgiveness and guard my heart with all diligence, just as the Word commands, so that bitterness cannot take root.

Over the course of many years, I have allowed the Lord to mold my heart and because I have yielded to Him, I have been delivered from every soul-tie, healed of my brokenness, restored from the pain of my past, and revived with a new life in Christ. I am very blessed to say that my relationship with my mother is also being restored and strengthened as each day passes. The Lord has helped me forgive myself and others who may have hurt me over the years. God has brought restoration and healing to many relationships, especially the ones that were meant to stay in my life for a reason. Jesus has shown me so much mercy and has called me to do the same to others. If I am going to bare His name, I must learn how to bare His character in all areas of my life too.

I am so grateful for the process the Lord has taken me through on His Potter’s wheel as His hands have held me, molded me, and guided me- from marred to honorable. I stand boldly before God’s throne in full confidence as His daughter, the most important role I will ever play in this life (living it out in reality and no longer pretending, of course). My earthly fathers may have failed me, but my Heavenly Father has always stayed by my side, encouraging me, and loving me in my darkest hours. His love is all I will ever need. I give my life to the Potter’s hands so that I can be a vessel fit for the Master’s use for the rest of my life.

Epilogue: My Prayer

I pray that the words in this book have honored my God, and I pray that they shine the light of Christ into your darkness and bring you hope. God is no respecter of persons, and He will rescue you out of your pit of destruction, just as He did me. Jesus died on the cross so that we may live abundantly and have fellowship with our Heavenly Father. You are loved. You are forgiven. When you believe in what Jesus did for you, you now have the right to be called a daughter and son of God, the greatest position you will ever stand in.

I pray that if you haven’t already surrendered your life to Christ, you do it today, or if you have strayed from Father God, you repent and return, and run straight into His loving arms. You no longer have to exist in darkness or be bound by heavy chains from sin. By the Blood of Jesus, you can be free and live for Christ. You just need to believe in what He did for you, surrender your life to Him, and yield yourself to the direction and instruction of the Holy Spirit. No matter what you have done, you are never too far gone for the Lord to use you. You are God’s masterpiece and He will mold you into a beautiful vessel for His purpose. Let us allow the Lord to flow through our lives to reach people for His name’s sake, to tell them of all that Jesus has done for them, and see our world change for His divine plan. May God continue to receive all the glory, honor, and power, forever. Amen.

About the Author

Emily resides in the Midwest with her husband, Paul, and their extremely lovable and loyal dog, Samson. They are both active in many areas of leadership at their church, including worship ministry, drama ministry, children’s ministry, and youth ministry. They desire to be a mother and father to this generation and long to raise up an army of sons and daughters of God who know who they are in Christ.

In addition to teaching and preaching the Word of God, Emily also pours out her passion for the Lord through her songwriting. Her songs spring forth out of a forgiven heart full of thankfulness and devotion unto God. As a vessel for the Lord, her prayer is that her gifts and testimony are used for His glory to reach many people for the Kingdom. “This is my story, this is my song. Praising my Savior, all the day long…”

If you would like more information, or would like to contact the author, you can visit www.emilyrosemassey.com