I read the news and prepared my heart. Chilean police raid Catholic church offices throughout the Andean nation of Chile looking for new cases of sexual abuse or evidence that church officials concealed abuse from authorities.
“Lord, this is not You, this is not Your character. Where are You in this?” My heart breaks as I see a nation lose confidence in the Church— in the very representation of Christ. But I continue to pray for the country of Chile and beg the Lord to reveal Himself in His truth through this. In just a few weeks, I would find myself on a plane headed toward Santiago, Chile. I wondered if this would be something I would have to see impact those I met.
Santiago, Chile:
It felt like the walls were as thin as paper. The material between each floor creaked with every step. The cold winter Chilean air seeped in through every crack and, I am convinced, through the walls. Every noise made traveled through the three floors of the home we were staying in.
It was about 10pm and I was ready to fall into a deep sleep. I could hear someone watching some sort of TV show in the room below me. I was debating on whether or not it would be worth it to play music from my iPad to drown out the noise of the show so I could fall asleep.
But then I started picking up on a different noise. I was trying to figure out if that particular sound was part of the show or if it was a separate thing. It took me a while to identify it for what it was— someone was crying. Hysterically crying.
I couldn’t make out the words but there was one thing I could definitely hear— pain. I lay there for a while trying to figure out if it was appropriate for me to go downstairs and hold or console the source of these cries.
But I didn’t know where any of the girls were actually sleeping. I was afraid to walk into the wrong room and bother or wake up the wrong person.
I focused in a little more on the crying. That tone was familiar. It had to be her.
So, I let my hands slip through the warmth of my sleeping bag to search for my phone somewhere on the bed.
I tried What’s App…not connected to the wi-fi. Dang it. Texted her…No more minutes. What?! I had literally just added more data on it a few days ago and hadn’t made any calls or sent out any texts since. Should I call her? No. Probably not a good idea. Where is my iPad? I turned over to the other side of the bed and searched for my iPad. How is it that my iPad has wi-fi but my phone can’t connect? It doesn’t matter, Frieda! Okay, Facebook messenger app. Am I even friends with her on Facebook yet? It’s only been 14 days since I’ve been here.
I didn’t really know what to type out but I settled for “Are you still up?”
I was hoping that she would respond and I would hear my iPad go off. I closed my eyes and began waiting for the noise of a response. I started thinking about the last times I cried out like that. It wasn’t too long ago— maybe even less than a month.
In fact, just two months ago, I was sitting in a dark room while others around me participated in an activation of the Fatherheart. Leaders and staff members stood at the front of the room waiting to be approached by those that needed held, that needed prayer, that needed something… The activation was on forgiveness. The staff members were supposed to represent someone in our lives that we were maybe never able to forgive or reconcile with.
I sat in my chair thinking, “I’ve done what I could have done. I don’t know if there is any more forgiveness to seek or to give. It’s time to move on.” I believed that I didn’t need to necessarily participate in this activation anymore. I just needed to move forward.
I don’t know how many minutes into the activation we were into when I felt someone’s arms wrap me from behind. She started to speak and I could feel the billfold of her hat lean against my head. I didn’t recognize this voice— this had to be a complete stranger.
“The Lord wants me to tell you, ‘I’m so sorry for the confusion.’” My heart sank and, within seconds, I was sobbing. I know she had other things to say but my heart held tight to those words— “I’m so sorry for the confusion.”
I dozed off. She had responded 10 minutes after I had sent out the message but I hadn’t heard my iPad go off.
At 6am I messaged her back: “Sorry. I ended up falling asleep. I heard someone crying last night and I was going to check in with you to see if you knew who it was and if there was anything I could do.”
“Do you sleep in the room that is labeled ‘boys’?”
“I do, yes.” I had previously been sleeping in another room. I’m sure, now, that she did not realize someone was right above her.
“Okay. I will talk to the girl who probably had her show on really loud and I had my music up really loud.”
“No worries. I was only worried because I could hear someone crying.”
“Yes, I am sorry. It was me. I was crying, venting about my anger from yesterday.”
“You don’t have to apologize, love. I am so sorry you were so hurt.”
“I don’t know how to act around them. I don’t know of they are a child of God or just a person that can be compared to a Pharisee. I feel confused and I beg God to show me who they are and what I need to do.”
Her and I had had previous conversations about this. My heart ached: “Please, Lord. Don’t let her stay in this pain of confusion.” Her words were all too familiar to me. I watched her battle and fight against this confusion. She wondered and sought out advice: do I extend more grace, do I call them out, do I tell their superior what is happening, do I let it go, do I run away?
This whole situation was a trigger for me. I tried to avoid the memories and the thoughts and I held on a little longer by just being there for her and trying to console her as much as I could.
I wished I had the perfect answer for her. I wished I could tell her which choice would have the most God-honoring result. But the truth is, I was struggling to see it myself.
All I could think of was to send her a blog post I had written two months earlier. “Let Go”
But it wasn’t until about 2 weeks later, after I had said my goodbye to her and headed toward San Pedro de Atacama, Chile that I realized something.
Confusion: it wasn’t just a feeling, it was a stronghold. I had begun doubting the character and goodness of God when I started to look to man to represent Him. When man failed to follow through with living a life above reproach, I allowed myself to invite a spirit of confusion in to suck the life out of me, to keep me from being able to give grace, to keep me from being able to choose joy, and to keep me from being able to live in freedom.
In Santiago, my squad leader, Alyssa had done some listening prayer for each of our teammates and she had heard God give her Ephesians 3 and 6 for me. She had written down, “Ask the Lord what it means.” I had read it through once and nothing had stood out to me at that time. To be honest, I didn’t really ask the Lord what it meant. Then, 4 weeks after having received Alyssa’s note, I start thinking about how the Word says that we war against the powers of darkness. Where is that verse? I typed in a few key words on my BLB app but MANY verses come up and I don’t see it. I finally ask my teammate, Sarah, if she knows where the verse is and she looks it up– Ephesians 6.
Ephesians 6:12 For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this age, against spiritual hosts of wickedness in the heavenly places.
There was a night where God prompted me to pray over our squad a casting out of the spirit of confusion as one of our leaders guided us to give and receive from the Lord.
A few days after that, on the squad’s last day in a small town in the driest desert of the world, surrounded by some of my amazing leaders, I was able to experience inner healing where I was challenged to recognize that the area of confusion God wanted me to deal with wasn’t an emotion but rather a spirit I needed to cast out in my own life. And it is one I will continue to have to cast out as the memories and thoughts are triggered.
Isaiah 43: 18-19
“Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland.”
