The Devil Doesn't Want Me Here

Last week, my fearful mother panicked.

"You know Taylor, if this whole Renew youth ministry thing doesn't work out, there's no failure in stopping and coming back home. Granite Bay is a lot safer and you'll be financially secure. Just come home and quit early so you can refund everyone's money."

The enemy gave me a long "Welcome Party" into Los Angeles. His itinerary included: a mentally unhealthy roommate, fear of being emotionally and verbally abused by the mentally unhealthy roommate, moving/running away from unhealthy roommate, not knowing where to go after running away from unhealthy roommate, moving into my aunt's couch, then catching and suffering the most painful virus/flu imaginable.

Mother heard my quivering voice as I hid in a bathroom shower corner. My heart broke when mentally unstable roommate called me an irresponsibly greedy manipulator. How could any of those words be true? None of them were. She held onto that conviction and never let me forget how she saw me. I couldn't stay there. I didn't feel safe.

For a moment, there was no way out. I sought housing opportunities, but no one responded. I was reminded of my aunt and uncle in Alhambra. After briefly sharing my experience, they immediately offered their couch. I rapidly packed everything I owned. I received final ungodly lies from emotionally unstable roommate, blocked her out of my life, and ran away from her hell hole.

My aunt and uncle opened their door to an emotionally shaken 23-year old. Through their prayers, hugs, and safe environment, God restored me. I shook off the dust from my feet and anticipated moving forward.

I live for Sunday mornings. The church is the most beautiful bride in the world and I have the honor of serving her. Two nights after moving in with my aunt, I prepared my Sunday outfit and went to bed early. My alarm was set to 6:00AM to leave Alhambra by 7:15AM, pick up my Echo Park friend at 7:30AM, then arrive church by 8:00AM.

I woke up earlier than my alarm. By early, I imply six hours early. My internal alarm clock was a nonstop gag reflex that emptied stomach components. If it were food poisoning, it would have stopped after the non-digestable food particles exited my body. At first I'm like, 'eh...this will stop and I can still go to church.' I was still throwing up stomach acid at 6:00AM. At 6:30 AM, I informed my Echo Park friend and the Children's Ministry Director about my health condition. I couldn't serve the beautiful bride that Sunday, and I was devastated.

Around 7:00AM, I mustered enough energy to pick up two ginger ales, two gatorades, and electrolyte water from 7-Eleven. My first gatorade sips were the first accepted body fluids in 7+ hours. My burning body temperature shivered after sipping refreshing fluids. The gag reflex stopped, but the enemy was not done with me.

Body parts writhed in agony: my upper arms, entire core, upper legs. Everywhere burned in pain. After hours of attempted comfort positions, I finally screamed.

God please make him stop. It hurts. It hurts. Why does it hurt? Why is this pain allowed? I guess I don't have to know why. The enemy is a cowardly lying bully. The coward cannot make me curse my Lord. I will not give into his ways. I hold fast to my righteousness and do not let it go. My heart does not reproach me for days. Though you slay me, still I will praise you.

I tried soaking in warm water, hoping to relieve muscle tension. It did...but afterwards, I could barely get up and put on clothes. My sweet cousin comes home and finds me in this physical condition. He sat next to me and prayed. He gave me ibuprofen, tea, and water. I finally slept for five hours and woke up with the same temperature and no muscle pain.

The majority of the pain happened before and during church service. It took three days to fully heal.

After physical restoration, mother called me and offered resignation back home. She justified her "wisdom" with maternal instincts. She's my mother and she wants safety for her little girl. Her plea lasted ten minutes.

I eventually refuted, "Mom, I know you mean well and you've walked alongside my trials. I love you for all of that and more. Yes, all of this is scary. Yes, I'm pretty uncomfortable. But in no way will I give up after being scorched by a blow torch. Don't you see how threatened the enemy is by me? If he weren't he wouldn't bother tormenting me! He hates me and doesn't want me here! If anything, the past two and a half weeks are confirmation that I need to be here! Don't try tempting me with that option! Giving up is not an option!"

She calmed down and apologized. I apologized for blowing up. We've moved on.

This is barely the beginning. The Christian ministry life created a large target on my back. Arrows and spears may aim at the target, but my faith shield guards me. No weapon formed against me will prosper. May we receive this truth as we walk together towards Jesus Christ.